Night Unfurls Its Splendor
by helloitskrisha
Summary: Modern AU; Set in New York City, Christine Daaé is a young aspiring Broadway singer who is still dealing with the loss of her talented musician father. She meets and falls for a reclusive yet world-renowned composer. He's determined to help her become a star... but at what cost? (A re-imagining of the ALW musical with Kay influences; E/C with some slight R/C)
1. Her One Chance

**Chapter 1: Her One Chance**

The stage was bustling with energy and excitement. Today was their first dress rehearsal for _Hannibal: The Musical_. The performers were playing their respective roles to the best of their ability. And each one was anxious for the arrival of the new managers.

Christine Daaé, most of all, was hoping to impress the managers with her stage presence.

No, she wasn't the lead performer nor did she even have a named role in the play. Today, she held the coveted role of a back-up dancer, moving gracefully behind the female lead. Barely noticed yet vital to the musical number.

Still, Christine dreamed that one day, she could take center stage and become a sought-after Broadway star.

As if on cue, the new managers arrived and walked into the theater. Although the performers noticed their arrival, Madame Giry, the director of the musical, motioned for them to continue as if the two guests had not just stepped through the front door.

Still, the arrival of their esteemed guests completely changed the atmosphere onstage. Each performer was now determined to make an excellent first impression. Even Carlotta, who was already a rising star in the Broadway world, longed to impress the new managers. She confidently strutted around the stage as she belted out high notes. Her powerful, pitch-perfect voice drowned out all other sounds, much to the dismay of Piangi, her co-star and leading man.

Christine resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Carlotta had always enjoyed hogging the spotlight, but despite the star's exceptional training and technique, she clearly had very little passion for or emotional connection to the music.

Madame Giry observed the ballerinas and gave them strict instructions as they danced. She noticed that Christine was distracted and behind on the dance moves. "Ms. Daaé! Concentrate, child, and remember your training!" she said in a steely voice.

Christine nodded sheepishly and strived to get back into the dance, ignoring the annoying glares and snickers she got from the other ballerinas.

As soon as they had finished rehearsing the opening number, the managers applauded wildly and came forward to shake Madame Giry's hand. "That was brilliant, Madame Giry! This show's going to be a hit, I just know it!" cried one of the managers.

Looking flattered while still keeping her stiff upper lip, Madame Giry gave the managers a soft smile. She then introduced the two men to the performers as Mr. Andre and Mr. Firmin. Rumor has it that the theater's old manager, Mr. Lefevre, had sold the place to them at a cheap price out of fear of the mysterious "phantom."

Christine had heard plenty of rumors about this strange, elusive "phantom" and she doubted that it even existed. _Theater folks really are a superstitious bunch_, she mused to herself.

If the new managers knew about the rumors, they didn't let it show. They seemed perfectly happy and content with their new line of business. They were even fawning over Carlotta, praising her powerful vocals and stage presence.

As this was happening, Christine noticed something in her peripheral vision. She could've sworn that she saw a dark figure move backstage, near the piano where Carlotta had left her water bottle. She shook her head and shrugged off what she'd just seen.

_You're just exhausted, Christine_, she thought to herself. _You're seeing things because you're tired from practicing all day and night_.

When Christine turned her attention back to the managers, they were still showering Carlotta with praise. The young soprano smiled widely at them, clearly reveling in their words of admiration. But then she felt an itch at the back of her throat and she yelled at a stagehand to bring her a bottle of water. One of the prop guys handed it to her and she greedily drank it.

Trying very hard not to show her distaste for Carlotta's dramatics, Madame Giry called for everyone's attention. "Yes, everyone did a splendid job with the opening number. However, we still have an entire play to rehearse. Let's transition to the next scene."

It was time to rehearse the musical's centerpiece, an aria for the female lead. Everyone stepped back into their places as Carlotta took center stage.

"_Think of me… Think of me fondly when we've said goodbye_…" Carlotta belted powerfully, her eyes proud and confident.

"_Remember me once in a while… Please promise me you'll try_…" She continued singing but everyone noticed a change in her expression. She quickly clutched her stomach, pain evident in her face.

"_When you find that once again you long to take your heart back_…" Suddenly, Carlotta stopped and put her hands over her mouth.

She rushed off the stage as everyone looked at her with concern. The awful sounds of retching are heard backstage.

Piangi, the lead tenor, rushed to Carlotta's side and held her hair as she vomited into one of the prop horses. "I'm… fine. Just give me a moment." Carlotta weakly mumbled. "The show… must go on…"

Mr. Andre spoke softly. "Oh, dear, it seems that you have the stomach flu. It may be best for you to rest for now." Carlotta seemed to open her mouth to dissent, but then she clutched at her stomach in pain and nodded without protest. Piangi helped her up and led her out of the theater.

With a look of concern on his face, Mr. Firmin approached Madame Giry and said, "While Carlotta's illness is unfortunate, she is correct that the show must go on. Have we cast an understudy for her role?"

Madame Giry nodded grimly. "Yes, we have. But I'm afraid that the poor girl has also called in sick this morning."

The managers recoiled. When Mr. Lefevre had told them about the so-called "theater ghost," they had laughed at the old man and assured him that they could handle any of the undead's old parlor tricks.

They hadn't expected… No, no, it couldn't be. This was just the case of the rare stomach flu going around.

They were assured that the sickness was nothing fatal but it would be difficult for performers to continue the show when they're uncomfortable and always close to retching. The symptoms of the flu would completely subside in about five days or so… but they didn't have enough time! The show was in two days!

Mr. Andre looked grimly at his partner, "We may have to cancel."

The other man gasped, "But we can't. We've already sold all the tickets. It's going to be a full house!"

A thought suddenly occurred to Christine. _This is it_, she thought to herself. _This is my one chance_.

She gathered all of the courage she could muster and stood forward shyly. "Sirs, I could perform in Carlotta's place…"

Everyone turned to look at her and she suddenly regretted speaking up. Madame Giry raised an inquisitive eyebrow. After what seemed like a long period of silence, Mr. Firmin eyed her hesitantly, "Do you know any of the songs?"

She smiled meekly and said, "I've memorized them all. I've been practicing, you see, with my voice coach."

Mr. Andre spoke up. "Well, if that is so, then sing for us, girl."

By that point, whatever confidence Christine had managed to convey crumbled. Yes, it's true that she had been practicing hard for the past few months but she's never actually performed in front of anyone except her music teacher before.

She opened her mouth to sing… but her voice betrayed her. It came out like a weak murmur instead of the soft, angelic yet powerful tone her voice coach had so often praised. Embarrassed, she ran off the stage, trying hard to keep her tears from falling.

That was it. Her one chance to become a star and she blew it.


	2. Learn to Be Lonely

**Chapter 2: Learn to Be Lonely**

Christine locked herself inside the rehearsal studio where she and the other ballerinas have often practiced. She's always known that she's never been the best dancer (not like her best friend Meg) but she had rhythm and she could always follow the steps the best she could.

She knew that the reason why she was even part of this show was not that she was particularly talented but because Madame Giry had taken pity on her.

Christine has not been the same ever since her father passed away. She had been lonely and isolated. Even her best friend Meg couldn't cheer her up, no matter how hard she tried.

Madame Giry, who had worked with Christine's musician father on countless other theater productions, felt sorry for her and hoped that letting her dance in the show could help her work through her grief.

But no. It hadn't worked. Even amongst her friends and fellow performers, she felt lonely. Like a black cloud had taken residence inside her heart and she didn't have the energy to shoo it away.

The only times she felt even close to happy was during her singing lessons… She'll never forget the first time she met her Angel of Music.

...

Several months ago, Madame Giry had brought Christine, along with the other dancers, to the rehearsal studio for the first time. It was a large room, lined with mirrors for walls so that the performers can more easily see how well they're doing. The space was mostly empty, aside from the presence of a single piano at the edge of the room.

The choreographer had just run them through the steps for _Hannibal_'s big opening number. Christine could barely keep up.

After practice, the other girls started to leave. Christine packed her belongings and moved to join the others outside. Madame Giry asked her to stay behind so that they could talk. Meg Giry glanced at Christine with pity, thinking that her mother was about to reprimand Christine for doing poorly during practice. And Christine thought the same.

To Christine's surprise, the older Giry's expression softened as soon as the other girls left the room. She put a hand on her shoulder and said, "I know you're having a hard time, Christine. Your father, he was always kind to me and everyone around him. He was a talented artist and he seemed a good father to you." Christine choked back sobs as Madame Giry talked about her dad.

Madame Giry continued, "But you mustn't let grief and loss for your departed father take over your life. You are still young and your best days are yet to come. I know how you love music and art, just as he did. Why not honor his memory through your talent?"

Christine smiled meekly, "I'm sorry. I know I'm not much of a dancer…"

Madame Giry waved a dismissive hand at her, "Dancing is a skill. And just like any other skill, it can be learned. With patience, practice, and hard work."

Christine nodded. And Madame Giry gave her a solemn smile. "You know… your father once told me that you had the voice of an angel."

"Papa and I used to sing together a lot but I haven't really felt the urge to sing since he passed away…" She looked away, hoping that Madame Giry wouldn't notice that her eyes had welled up with tears.

Madame Giry nodded understandingly and then reached inside her pocket. She brought out a key and handed it to Christine. "I understand if you don't wish to sing just yet, but if you ever need space to sing or dance or just be alone with your thoughts, you can stay here."

"Thank you so much." Christine looked at the key in her hand appreciatively.

She's never had a place to call her own before.

That night, Madame Giry left Christine alone with her thoughts. Christine didn't want to go back to her dormitory. She didn't want to listen to her roommates gushing about the hot boy they met at a nearby Starbucks or their latest Tinder match. She just wanted to be alone for a while.

She glanced at the piano, daydreaming about the way her father used to play for her when she couldn't fall asleep. She placed a hand on one of the keys and as if by instinct, she began playing a soft, solemn melody. She let the memory of her father embrace her like a warm blanket. And before she even realized what was happening, she began singing along to the sad tone.

"_Child of the wilderness, born into emptiness_…" she sang, "_Learn to be lonely, learn to find your way in darkness_…"

Though she knew she was alone as she sang, she couldn't help but feel as if she's being watched. She put aside her paranoid thoughts and continued singing. "_Who will be there for you? Comfort and care for you? Learn to be lonely… Learn to be your one companion._"

The song had found its way into her soul now. It reached into her heart and made her feel warm for the first time in a long, long time.

"_So laugh in your loneliness,_

_Child of the wilderness,_

_Learn to be lonely_

_Learn how to love life that is lived alone_."

Christine finished the song and sighed. Suddenly, she heard the sound of clapping and a pleased voice calling out to her. "_Brava, brava, bravissima_!"

...

Christine cried as she recalled this memory. She realized how disappointed her Angel would be to find out that she had the chance to show off her voice, the chance to put their hours of training to good use, and she failed. Completely, utterly, miserably failed.

The truth is, she wasn't just mad at herself for squandering her chances of getting the lead role in _Hannibal_. She was also afraid that her beloved voice coach, her Angel, would give up on her and stop teaching her altogether.

As if reading her thoughts, she heard her Angel's voice coming from the walls of the studio. "My dear, sweet Christine," he cooed, "please don't cry."

The warmth emanating from his deep, rich voice almost made Christine cry harder but she tried to keep herself together. "I—I'm sorry, Angel, I failed. I wasted my chance."

There was silence. And Christine feared that her Angel had abandoned her for good.

But then, she saw it. In one of the mirrors, a figure wearing clothing that she could only describe as suave and elegant (a silky red button-up shirt, a black blazer, and black pants) emerged.

As she looked up at him, she noticed that he had raven-black hair and was wearing a stark white mask that covered half of his face. She rubbed her eyes, wondering if they were playing tricks on her.

It was no trick. Her Angel of Music had emerged from the mirror and was now standing right in front of her.


	3. Angel of Music

**Chapter 3: Angel of Music**

Christine was not as naïve as most people thought. She had known that the voice that talked to her during her singing lessons wasn't a literal angel. She had always guessed that he was just a man.

But she liked to pretend, you see. When she was a child, her father had told her stories of angels and demons, of magic and miracles.

"And when I'm gone, my daughter, I'll go to Heaven. While there, I'll ask God to send His best angel to look after you and guide you." That was the last thing her dad had said to her as he lay dying. His words had helped her to keep going during her moments of despair and misery.

So, when she first heard the voice that praised her song and offered to help her perfect her technique, she wanted to believe that he wasn't just a creepy man lurking behind the walls. After all, he had been kind to her. He had comforted her and told her that she wasn't alone. That he understood how she felt and that, if she wished, he would stay by her side and make sure that she never felt alone ever again.

"Are you an angel?" Christine had asked him when he first spoke to her. Her question was met with silence. But the voice never disputed her whenever she called him her Angel of Music.

Still, Christine never thought that the man behind the voice would ever show himself to her. Through the months, they had both become very comfortable with their arrangement. Every night, she would come to the studio alone. She would sing and the voice would give her instructions and corrections.

Sometimes, they would even go beyond their usual student-teacher rapport. Christine would tell her Angel about her day—her talks with Meg, her frustrations with her dancing, the books she's read. He would patiently listen to her and even make encouraging comments.

"I would have to agree with Meg, my dear. Dancing, though it may not come as naturally to you as singing, can be something you grow to master."

Christine pouted a bit, and the Angel let out a deep chuckle that made her suddenly become self-conscious about her appearance. Could he see her behind the walls? She never asked.

Her Angel was not only a kind soul and a musical genius. She found that he also had a sense of humor.

During their lessons, Christine would sometimes become frustrated at her inability to immediately master an aria. Her voice coach is quite strict when it comes to music, and there would always be something about her posture, her breathing, her technique that he would comment on. But whenever he realized that she was becoming too hard on herself, he'd tell her a joke to lighten the mood.

His sense of humor would often come out at the most unexpected moments. He was often very serious and refined so, whenever he made a funny comment or a sarcastic remark, she would always get caught off-guard. "Angel, did… did you just joke? Do you make jokes now?" He'd always chuckle heartily at her surprise.

...

Now that she was finally standing face-to-face with her Angel, she didn't know what to feel. Should she feel creeped out that she was locked in the room with a stranger? Well, she thought that she _should_ feel that way.

But he hasn't truly been a stranger to her. Not really. He was the one who made her nights happier, made her feel like she had a purpose or at least a goal to strive towards.

The man who she once saw as her Angel reached his hand out as if to touch her shoulder. But he stopped just before his gloved hand actually made contact with her skin. "I'm sorry if I startled you, my dear. I just… don't like watching you cry."

Christine tried to study the expression on his face but the mask made it difficult. She looked down and took a deep breath. Even though he was out of the walls, he was still acting like her Angel. _Maybe this shouldn't change anything about our relationship_, Christine thought.

"I…" Christine started, "I had the chance to audition for the lead role in _Hannibal_ today. And I panicked. I couldn't sing. Not with everyone staring at me. I've never sung in front of anyone before."

He motioned for her to sit down on the piano stool and she did. He sat next to her, careful to put a respectable distance between them. "That's simply not true. You've sung in front of your father, as you told me. And you've sung in front of me more times than I can count."

"Yes, but those moments were different. It's so much harder when there are dozens of eyes staring at you, judging your every move."

He nodded silently, as though he strongly understood the feeling of being judged.

Christine continued, "I blew it, Angel. I lost my one chance."

Her Angel stood from the piano, eyes now blazing with rage. She thought that he was angry with her for failing miserably after they had spent months training. Instead, he said, "No, my dear. If they can't see your worth, then they are _fools_."

He stretched his gloved hand out to her. "Come with me."

She hesitated but then placed her hand on his. As if by magic, the mirror had once again opened for them. And her Angel led her inside a secret entrance that led to a dark tunnel.


	4. Trust

**Chapter 4: Trust**

Alarms were ringing in Christine's head now. Why did she go with him? Why did she let herself go with him? She didn't really know this man, and now she was alone in this dark tunnel with him.

_He could be a serial killer for all I know_, she thought to herself. _Stupid move, Christine. Really stupid_.

Although she was still holding the man's hand, she stopped walking. Her pause had made him stop as well. "Listen, um, Angel… I'm sorry. Look, you've been nothing but nice to me the entire time we've been talking to each other. And I'm grateful for everything you've taught me. But, um… I don't know how to say this…"

He looked at her questioningly, concern coloring his voice. "Tell me, Christine."

"A few minutes ago, you were just a disembodied voice and now you're a man. And you're leading me through a creepy tunnel… and…"

He stopped her. "I see. I apologize." Although Christine couldn't see the expression on his face clearly, his voice seemed sincerely ashamed. "Do you wish for me to take you back, Christine? I can get you a ride home."

She thought about it. Did she want to go back to her dorm? Where her roommates would likely be gossiping about her and her epic failure at the play today? Where Meg would look for her and try to give her well-meaning yet ultimately hollow reassurances?

No. She didn't want to go back there. And she didn't want to be alone either. What she wanted was to feel at peace, which was how she always felt whenever she spoke with her Angel.

Despite all the logical reasons against this decision, Christine looked up to the mysterious stranger who was once her Angel and said, "No. But… I need to know that I can trust you first."

Even in the darkness, she could see a small smile form on his face. "Tell me what I have to do to win your trust, Christine. Name it and I'll do it."

Christine wasn't really sure what kind of proof she was looking for. "Well… maybe we could start with your name. You know so much about me and yet I don't even know your name."

He seemed surprised by what she said. If Christine didn't know any better, she'd think that no one had ever asked him about his name before. "My name is Erik."

"Ah. Like the composer Erik Lowell?"

"Exactly like the composer."

Christine smiled at that revelation. Okay. The Angel has a name. That's one mystery solved. "Do you have other students, aside from me?"

"No, my dear. You're the only one."

She didn't understand why but her heart raced when he said that. Then, she blushed when the sudden realization hit her—she never really let go of his hand.

Pushing away the butterflies in her stomach, she struggled to come up with another sensible question to ask the man who had appeared from a mirror and was currently leading her through a dark tunnel. "Where were you thinking of taking me? Where does this tunnel lead?"

He let go of her hand, and she tried to mask her disappointment. His hand reached an unlit lantern that was hanging on the wall. "I apologize about not lighting this sooner. I'm quite used to the darkness, so I often forget about how disconcerting it could be to those who spend all day in the light." Like magic, he snapped his fingers and the lanterns that lined the tunnel walls all lit up.

"As for your questions," he continued, "I wanted to show you where I lived. I thought I could cheer you up a bit. I'd make some tea and you could stay by my fireplace to read a book. I knew you wouldn't want to go back to your dorm tonight. I wanted to keep you company for a bit, get your mind off… the _incident_ today."

Her heart was thumping in her chest now. She had always loved his voice—the rich, deep, dulcet tones that blessed her ears. But now, he wasn't just a voice. She could see his tall, lean figure clearly, dressed in clothes that seemed perfectly tailored to his height and shape. She could see the way his graceful hands oozed sensuality, the way his eyes looked at her with adoration. The half of his face that she could see was—_dare she say it_—quite handsome. She was smitten and she knew it.

She didn't say another word. Instead, she extended his hand to him and let him lead her through the tunnel again.


	5. The Underground Lair

**Chapter 5: The Underground Lair**

Now that the tunnel was lit, Christine could see things more clearly. The area they were walking through looked like an old, abandoned subway station. She had read about these twisted tunnels before. Apparently, the New York City subway system contained many underground transport areas that no longer had any use.

Well, Erik, ever the resourceful man, seems to have found a use for them.

To Christine's surprise, the path they followed led to an underground lake. Erik, never letting go of her hand, led her to a small pier where a gondola waited for them. He gripped her hand as she boarded the boat and finally let go when she sat down.

Neither of them had said a word to each other during the entire time that they had walked through the tunnel. But, now, Christine couldn't keep her thoughts to herself. None of this felt real. Who was Erik, this mysterious man who had an underground lair surrounded by a lake that you could enter through an unused subway station?

"Erik," she whispered. And though he did not stop rowing the gondola, she could tell that the sound of his name on her lips affected him. "Do you really live here?"

He chuckled deeply. "Yes, my dear. Just beyond the lake."

"How did you find this place?"

"Well, when I first settled in New York, I did some contracting work. Mostly, I helped design beautiful buildings and facilities. Soon, news of my designs had reached the city government's ears. They needed assistance with creating new subway line expansions. Though the expansions didn't work out, I managed to find a new use for the existing abandoned systems."

Christine smiled. Her voice coach was so full of surprises. "So, you're good at music _and_ architecture."

A small smile formed on his lips. "Among other things."

"Well, now I'm intrigued. You _have_ to tell me."

He chuckled and her heart skipped a beat. "When we get to my house, I'll show you."

...

Christine didn't know what she expected when he told her that this was his house. Aside from the fact that it was hidden underground, it looked like any ordinary house. It had windows, a door, and all that. (Unlike Erik, Christine does not know enough about architecture to describe the features of this house in detail.)

However, when they entered the house, she audibly gasped. On the outside, it looked quite small and quaint, but inside, it was like a palace. His living room—if she could even call it that—was breathtaking.

There were clean, white walls, adorned with various paintings. There were golden statues and sculptures all around. A grand piano stood in the middle of the "living room". A variety of instruments, some of which she didn't even know existed, were carefully and neatly placed in different parts of the house. There were books everywhere, and a large bookshelf stood tall next to his cozy-looking fireplace.

Squinting a bit, Christine thought that she spotted four doors at the edge of the room. One was fully open. That was where Erik went—the kitchen. The other door was slightly ajar, and she thought she could see a bathtub. The other two rooms, she guessed, were bedrooms.

She did notice that he didn't have a lot of furniture. Just two lounge chairs and a small coffee table in front of a hearth._ And maybe just one bed in one of the two closed rooms_, she mused to herself, blushing a bit at the thought of spending the night at Erik's place. _And maybe even in _his_ bed_… She pushed away the idea as she saw Erik approach her.

True to his word, he had made tea for them. Erik set the tea tray on the coffee table and gestured for Christine to sit on one of the chairs. A small grin appeared on his face and Christine suddenly felt flustered. She didn't understand how her feelings for her dear Angel could so quickly change from mostly platonic to deep, maddening lust.

Erik cleared his throat. (Christine hoped that mind-reading wasn't among his many skills.) "Well, I am a man of my word. I made tea. And there are books here you can read."

Christine chuckled a bit, "Yes, I can see that."

"And," Erik continued, "I did promise you that I'd show you what else I can do."

He paused a bit for dramatic effect and Christine resisted the urge to giggle. "I'm quite fond of magic and illusions."

"Can you pull a rabbit out of a hat?" Christine remarked jokingly.

Erik looked at her with grave seriousness. "If that's what you want me to do, I will do that. For you."

She blushed but waved her hand dismissingly. "No, Erik. I was kidding. I'd love to see what unique tricks you have up your sleeves."

He then smirked and dramatically sighed in relief. "Oh, thank God." He remarked sarcastically, "For a second there, I thought that my favorite student had a fondness for hackneyed parlor tricks. I've always known you were a woman with such sophisticated tastes."

Christine laughed, less at his attempt at humor and more at his surprisingly goofy theatrics. She hadn't been this happy in such a long time.

* * *

**A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you for all the reviews, favs, and follows. They truly mean a lot to me. ^^**

**I'm new to fanfic writing so I was pretty nervous about posting this story on FFN. I hope you guys like it so far. I'd love to know what you're thinking so please do leave a review :D**

**Also, English isn't my native language so if you spot any typos or spelling/grammar errors, let me know so I can fix it :)**


	6. Music of the Night

**Chapter 6: Music of the Night**

As Erik and Christine sat by the fireplace, the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes turned to hours. There weren't any wall clocks in his place and Christine wondered how _the hell_ he was able to tell the time.

But right now, the time didn't matter to her. She felt content and relaxed in a way that she hadn't been since her father died.

Erik had shown her a few of his magic tricks, and she was genuinely awed by them. He was certainly no amateur magician. Even though she looked closely at the way his hands moved, she couldn't see how he managed to make a rose appear out of thin air. Or how he seemed to make it float before her eyes.

They spent the rest of the evening talking. Well, more precisely, Christine talked and Erik listened, only occasionally providing comments as he saw fit. He had asked her about her home before she came to New York and the question made her pause.

"I… don't really know if I've ever had a real _home_. My mother passed away when I was too young to remember her. I know I was born in Sweden, but I barely remember our house there. My papa and I traveled a lot and we never settled in one place for too long. We stayed in France for a year. And England for a few months. We came to New York when he was called here for a concerto. I've stayed mostly because I don't know where else to go. Although I've been here for months, it doesn't really feel like home yet either."

Erik didn't say a word but she could tell that he understood what she meant about not truly belonging anywhere.

She eyed him curiously. "What about you? Before you built your underground palace, where was _your_ home?"

Erik's mood seemed to darken and his entire body tensed in response to her question. She quickly regretted asking. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

His expression softened and he placed his hand on hers. "It's no fault of yours, my dear. Let's just say that, much like you, I've never truly had a place to call home."

There was a brief period of silence. Then, he gently took her hand and gave it a quick kiss. Her heart fluttered at the contact. "My sweet Christine," he whispered, "We could have that, you know."

"Have what?" She had no idea what he was talking about anymore. Her thoughts still lingered on the brief yet sensual way he had kissed her hand.

"A home. Both of us. We could have a home right here. Together."

His words seemed to snap her back to reality. Was he… asking her to move in with him? But they just met. Well, she'd known him for months when he was giving her voice lessons. But technically, she just met him today. She hesitated, "I mean… It's not that I don't enjoy your company or that I don't trust you…"

He stayed silent as she searched for the right words.

"I just…" she continued, "It just seems sudden and I don't know if living underground is something I want. I'm a bit afraid of the dark, you see."

Erik gazed warmly at her, and she wanted nothing more than to just give in. Move in with him, marry him, sleep in his bed, have cute little masked babies with him. But a voice inside her head, which for some reason sounded like Madame Giry's, told her to be reasonable and logical.

_You don't really know him. Not yet, at least_, the voice seemed to say.

He gently placed his hand on hers, letting their fingers entwine instinctively. "You don't have to make a decision right now, but I hope you consider the idea."

He continued with a smirk, "And the darkness isn't scary. Once you get used to it."

Erik stood from his chair, still holding her hand. He urged her to get up and so she did. "There's one more trick I want you to see." He snapped his fingers and the grand piano in the middle of the room started playing a soft and haunting yet sensual melody—by itself!

Chuckling deeply at Christine's awed expression, Erik stood closer to her. She decided to close the gap between them by placing her hands on his shoulders. And soon, they were dancing.

Christine had never felt such a deep desire for someone before. Sure, she's dated other guys. In fact, she still fondly remembers Raoul, her childhood sweetheart. But her feelings for Erik were so different. So _intense_.

She placed her head on his shoulder and let herself relax in his arms. Soon, Erik began singing sweetly in her ear. "_Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation_."

* * *

**A/N: ****_Dating Tips From Erik #1: Ask a girl to move in with you on the first date_****. XD**

**Thank you for all the lovely reviews, everyone. I cherish every single one. As always, I'd love to hear what you're thinking so please do comment if you can :)**


	7. Let Your Darker Side Give In

**Chapter 7: Let Your Darker Side Give In**

Christine felt as if she were walking on a cloud. Her arms were around Erik's neck and his hands were on her waist. She could hear his sweet dulcet tones ringing in her ear, calling out to her, beckoning her to lower her defenses.

"_Let the dream begin… let your darker side give in_…" he sang.

She couldn't resist. She didn't _want_ to resist. In her mind, she had already imagined their bodies entwining. She was intoxicated by Erik's seductive purring in her ear and the way his hands glided over her waist carefully.

Patiently, she waited for him to make the first move, waited for him to finally clear the sexual tension in the air.

"_You alone can make my song take flight_… Christine," he cooed, her name sounding like a prayer on his lips, "_Help me make the music of the night_."

The song was finished and the piano had become an inanimate object again. Christine had thought that her Angel would seize this moment and make his move. But the move did not come.

Maybe her feelings were entirely one-sided. She wondered whether Erik still saw her exclusively as his student and friend. Maybe she had been reading too much into the situation.

Erik noticed her silence. He gently brushed a strand of hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear. "What's wrong, my dear?"

"Uh…" She couldn't find the words. "What am I to you, Erik?"

He seemed almost flustered by her question. "You're my _Christine_." She wondered how he could make her name sound like everything and nothing all at once.

She leaned forward, meeting his eyes. _That's funny_, she mused to herself. Now that she's staring directly at his face, she noticed that his eyes were each a different color. His left eye was a warm shade of brown like the color of milk chocolate, while the right was a cold, disconcerting yellow.

She shuddered when she remembered that one of the dancers had told her that the "phantom," the theater ghost, had sickly yellow eyes. But no, that couldn't be. Those were just stories. Her Erik, he was real.

Pushing all doubts away from her mind, Christine placed her hand on the uncovered side of his face and pulled him into a kiss. Her heart fluttered when his lips met hers.

Erik didn't make any attempts to stop her but his body stiffened in surprise. When she noticed his discomfort, she moved to pull away. But he surprised her by moving closer to her, deepening the kiss.

...

Neither Erik nor Christine remembers how they got there but, soon, they had found themselves inside one of the locked rooms. They were on the bed, still too many layers of clothing between them. _I can fix that_, Christine thought. As her lips danced on his, her hands made their way to his chest, unbuttoning his silky red shirt.

His pale skin was covered in different scars and she silently wondered what stories each one held. She made a mental note to ask him about them in the morning.

But then she moved to remove his mask…

He quickly pulled away, clutching at the covered side of his face. The look of desire and wonder on his face suddenly changed to uncertainty and fear. "Christine, I…" he started, weak and mumbling. She stayed silent, not completely sure what to say.

His expression changed as soon as he became sure that his mask had not come off. She could feel his walls coming back up. He stood away from the bed and seemed to regain his confidence and composure.

Christine felt guilty about ruining the mood. She silently reprimanded herself for not asking him first about whether he was comfortable taking off the mask.

"Do you know why I wear a mask, Christine?" He stated coldly.

_Because of some kind of deformity probably_, she had guessed. She honestly didn't care what he looked like under the mask, but she knew that _he_ cared. "Sorry. I… I wasn't thinking…" she struggled to get the words out.

"No. Of course not. You wouldn't know." He didn't bother masking the frustration in his voice.

"I can handle it, Erik. If… if you're willing."

He looked at her, clearly not believing a single word she was saying. "No, my dear. You don't know what you're getting into."

"Erik, I'm sorry. Really, I hadn't meant to hurt you." His mood lightened a bit at the genuineness of her apology. She continued, "You know, lots of people have physical flaws. I do, too. I have this birthmark on my stomach area that I don't like. And I'm often insecure about my weight."

Erik chuckled sadly and gestured toward his white mask. "This isn't like an unsightly birthmark or a weight issue."

"Still," she said as she stood from the bed and moved closer to him, "I accept you for who you are. It's okay if you're not ready to show me your face yet but I need you to know that I accept you fully."

He sprung away from her as if she had hit him. He gave her a look so intricate in its sadness. "You don't know me, Christine."

She touched his cheek and gave him a swift kiss. "Then let me get to know you." She caressed the skin on his chest, tracing her fingers over the long scar that seemed to extend from his neck to his belly button. Softly, she began humming the melody he had played to her earlier.

Despite his initial hesitation, they got back into bed together. This time, Christine made sure to keep her hands off the mask.


	8. His One Chance

**Chapter 8: His One Chance**

Erik couldn't believe his luck. When he had planned how the evening would go in his head, he never imagined this. Even now as he gazed at his beloved Christine sleeping soundly on his bed, he still couldn't believe that it was more than just a dream.

He was the kind of man who liked to plan for any eventuality. Whenever an idea came to his mind, he'd always create strategies that would get him the best possible outcome. He relished the feeling of being in control, of anticipating how a situation would play out.

But when it came to Christine, he was truly out of his depths.

When he first heard her singing, he was in awe. Her voice, though imperfect and untrained, had a certain quality that he couldn't quite name. He recognized the melody she was playing. It was the composition of a musician Erik had once admired, Gustave Daaé, her father. But the lyrics… they were all hers.

She was singing from her heart, singing about her solitude and her longing for a connection. Erik knew then that they were alike. Just two lonely souls yearning for _someone_ to understand them.

He hadn't planned to reach out to her, to offer her the chance to perfect her voice. But that's what he did. And soon their nightly singing lessons became the highlight of his long, miserable life.

She was an ideal student, eager to learn and quick to absorb. But she had always been too hard on herself, getting frustrated whenever she couldn't master something promptly enough or when she made simple errors. Erik understood, for he too strived for perfection.

His Christine, his majestic Angel, longed to become a star. She was a bit insecure and unsure of her skills but he always saw that defiant spark in her eyes whenever she sang for him. He could picture her taking center stage, singing like the nightingale she is, garnering standing ovations from adoring crowds all over the globe.

He would do anything—literally _anything_—to make her dreams come true. He would give her the world if he knew it was what she wanted.

_The solution was simple_, he thought to himself. Just a straightforward little concoction that could make Carlotta, the Broadway world's current favorite soprano, sick for a few days. _Nothing fatal_, he mused, _just enough to keep her indisposed, allowing Christine to take her place_.

Of course, he had to take care of the understudy as well. The previous day, he had sent the girl some chocolates that she thought were from a "secret admirer." He took no pleasure in hearing her awful vomiting. But he had to make these choices. For his Christine.

On the day of the dress rehearsal, he had taken his usual place in the theater, Box 5, where he had a clear view of the goings-on. He had sneaked into the booth quietly after switching Carlotta's water bottle with his own special mixture.

He watched patiently as the new managers fretted over whether or not to cancel the show. He had faith that his Christine would step up and she did. Pride swelled in his chest as Christine shyly stood forward and announced that she had been practicing all the songs with her voice coach.

But a simple miscalculation had wrecked his scheme. He didn't account for Christine's sudden stage fright. How could he know? She was always confident whenever she sang for him.

As the embarrassed Christine ran away from the stage, Erik cursed under his breath. He wasn't mad at his Angel—no, he could never be mad at her—but he hated that his plan had made her cry. He could never bear to watch her cry.

Erik is a man who liked to plan for any eventuality. However, when he had imagined the different scenarios that could take place after that eventful dress rehearsal, none of them involved sharing a bed with his Christine. None of his plans included having her in his arms or getting between her legs.

Of course, he had desires like any other man. But he never thought, never expected that Christine would want to be intimate with him in this way. He had always been careful, staying behind that mirror. Observing but never touching.

She was the only good, pure thing in his life and he wanted to preserve that. He didn't want to drag her into the darkness with him. But how could he resist her?

How could he resist comforting her as she cried alone in that rehearsal studio? How could he resist taking her by the hand as he led her through the dark tunnels? How could he keep his heart from leaping when she smiled so sweetly at him by the fireplace? How could he say "no" when she lured him to the bedroom?

He would give his Christine the world. And he wasn't about to give up yet.

His mind and his voice had always been his most dangerous weapons, and he was ready to use them again. _This was it_. His one chance to help Christine achieve her dreams.

...

The new managers, Andre and Firmin, were in their office. Both of them were eager to go home and call it a night but, unfortunately, they had not found a solution to their casting dilemma. Finding a suitable replacement for their star soprano was proving to be a challenging prospect, especially since the production is new and only Carlotta and her understudy had prepared for the role.

Their conversation, however, was cut short when suddenly, all the lights in the room quickly shut off. The two men looked around, startled by this turn of events.

All around them, they could hear laughter—powerful, sinister laughter—that seemed to be coming from everywhere inside the room. The managers looked around, trying to find where the demonic laugh was coming from but they couldn't trace the source.

Fear and unease were evident in their expressions, but neither of them dared to make a move. Andre slowly backed away, trying to grasp the door handle. But it seemed that they had been locked inside their own office.

The laughter got stronger. The cold, devilish tones sent chills up the managers' spines.

Firmin glanced around the room, trying to find where the voice is coming from. "Who… who is there?" he muttered shakily.

The voice did not grace his question with a response. From behind the walls, they could hear eerie scratch noises like the sound of nails on a chalkboard. Both men covered their ears to try and drown out the unpleasant sounds. This time, Andre spoke up. "What do you want?! What is this game you're playing? Show yourself at once!"

There was a brief period of silence. But then a shadow showed up in front of them. The lack of light obscured the figure's features but they could see a single yellow eye glowing pale and sickly in the moonlight.

The two men shuddered. The shadow didn't move but, all around them, they could hear a loud banging sound coming from the walls. The thumping made the framed photographs on the wall fall to the floor.

As the banging steadily grew louder, the figure in front of them took a step closer. They stumbled back, trying to crawl toward the door. The shadow gave them one last devilish laugh and then a cloud of smoke seemed to envelop the entire room.

Coughing and sputtering from the smoke, Andre tried to frantically open their door but it was still completely locked. Panicking, Firmin tried to kick the door open. Once the fog subsided, the figure had vanished and the lights turned on again.

When they looked at their desk, a single note, written in blood-red ink, was left there.

_"__Gentlemen, _

_I only wished to welcome you to my theater. Mr. Lefevre and I had a rather rocky working relationship. I hope ours could be less difficult._

_All I want is what's best for this production. Fortunately, I have found a solution to our little casting problem. Ms. Daaé will sing for you again tomorrow, and she will take Carlotta's place._

_You would do well to follow my command. _

_Remember that I know where to find you."_

* * *

**A/N: I really enjoyed getting to write from Erik's perspective for a change. Haha. **

**Thank you, everyone, for the kind words and for your continuing support! Your reviews, favs, and follows mean the world to me. Special shout-out to Melstrife, Cutthroat56, blueandie, and Guest(s?) for the lovely comments. :)**

**Let me know what you guys think of the story so far!**


	9. Her Second Chance

**Chapter 9: Her Second Chance**

Christine woke up to the smell of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. She was starving, and she realized that it was because she hasn't had a proper meal since yesterday afternoon. As she opened her eyes, she gasped at the unfamiliar room she was in. Then, she remembered…

In her dream, there was mist. Candles everywhere. An underground lake. A boat. And a mysterious man.

_So, it hadn't been a dream_, she thought to herself. She couldn't believe it. She actually did spend a passionate night with the man who was once her Angel of Music.

As if on cue, Erik had begun humming sweetly in the kitchen. The sound of his voice drew Christine to get up, get dressed, and head over to him.

He smiled warmly as he saw her leave the bedroom. "Good morning, my dear."

"Is it morning already?" Christine glanced around the house. No sunlight, no wall clocks to tell the time, no signs that morning had actually come. _Honestly. How did he know what time it was_?

Erik chuckled. "Yes, my sweet. Did you rest well?"

She blushed profusely. "Well, I had a wonderful night, so yes."

It was Erik's turn to blush. Or at least it looked like he blushed. Christine couldn't always read his expression behind the mask.

He looked at her with such deep adoration and she felt herself melting under the intensity of his gaze. "My Christine," his voice almost a whisper, "Why don't you sit by the coffee table? Your breakfast is almost ready. You'll need to energize for the day, and we can begin our lesson after the meal."

_Lesson_? Christine didn't think she heard him right. "You mean… you still want to teach me? Even though I failed that audition?"

She couldn't read his expression clearly, but it was obvious to her that he was thinking very hard about what he was about to say. "You will have your day in the spotlight, my dear. I swear it on my life."

As Christine moved to sit by the fireplace, she heard her phone ringing in her purse. She went into the bedroom to retrieve it. Meg had left her a few missed calls last night. Madame Giry had also sent a concerned text. But then she saw a message from an unknown number…

She placed her hands over her mouth and let out a muffled gasp. She couldn't believe it.

"Are you alright, Christine? Is something the matter?" Erik called out.

"I… I don't get it." She stammered as she re-entered the kitchen. "I just got a text from the managers. They said that they want me to sing for them again today. They're giving me a second chance!"

Erik grinned as he continued frying the bacon. "Apparently, the new managers aren't as foolish as I thought."

"I don't get it, Erik. I barely even sang a single line yesterday. Why would they give me another shot?"

Erik smirked at her. "Perhaps, they are starting to see what I've always seen."

She blushed. "And what _do_ you see?"

"A star unlike any other."

...

Their lesson today was different from all their previous ones. Erik barely commented on Christine's singing technique or her posture. Instead, they focused almost exclusively on her stage presence.

Erik told her to picture an adoring audience, but her nerves were still affecting her singing. Even as she closed her eyes to picture warm applause and standing ovations, she couldn't help but imagine the look of disbelief on the managers' eyes when she announced that she could take Carlotta's place. She remembered the way her fellow ballerinas whispered in each other's ears, not believing that she could even sing. The inquisitive look on Madame Giry's face, Meg's anxious foot-tapping.

Her fear was holding her back and she didn't know how to make it go away.

As if reading her mind, Erik spoke up. "People will always look; they will always judge. But they don't have to see your fear if you don't let them." He placed her hand in his. "You can control the way they see you, show them only what you want them to see."

"Easy for you to say," she muttered in frustration, "You spend your days in the shadows."

Instead of getting offended as Christine had imagined, Erik laughed out loud. "My dear, I've spent my fair share of days under a cold, clinical light."

"Really?" Christine whispered. She couldn't imagine Erik performing in front of an audience.

He hesitated, thinking deeply about whether he should explain further. But as he looked into his Christine's gentle, innocent eyes, his defenses lowered. "When I was a boy no older than nine, I was quite involuntarily part of a traveling circus. I was their main event, their freak show. People from all across Europe would come to my cage, laughing and gawking at my face. _The Devil Child_, they called me."

Christine's heart twisted in a knot. _Poor Erik. How could people be so cruel?_

He continued, "Then, I learned that I had particular skills, as you know. I managed to convince the ringmaster to let me show off more than just my face. In exchange for a real tent, a bed, and a mask, I would make him more money than his fat hands could carry. I would draw crowds by singing and performing breathtaking illusions. Of course, I still had to show them my face at the end of every performance. Just enough to elicit shocks and gasps. But I was no longer in a cage. I was in control."

Erik moved closer to her. "Don't let them keep you in a cage, my dear."

...

Erik brought Christine back through the mirror of the rehearsal studio. After changing into clean clothes at her dorm, she headed straight to the theater. Nervous but excited to have her second shot.

This time, she was determined not to waste her chance.

"_Think of me… Think of me fondly when we've said goodbye_…" Her voice burst out of her like fireworks. And she could see that the managers were surprised by the power of her song.

The other performers were whispering amongst one another, seeming to like what they were hearing. Meg was smiling widely at her. Madame Giry, though seeming to be deep in thought, looked pleased. As she sang the final high note, she saw Mr. Firmin's jaw dropping.

She did it. She was in control.


	10. The Premiere

**Chapter 10: The Premiere**

The stage was bustling with nervous energy. Today was the premiere of _Hannibal: The Musical_. All the performers held their breath in anticipation of the moment when the curtains would open. Finally, they could show the world the masterpiece of artistry that they had been working so hard on for months.

Christine Daaé, most of all, was completely anxious to make a good first impression. This was her first real Broadway show… and she'll be performing as the lead!

She still can't believe that the moment she had dreamed of all her life had finally come. Her future career, as well as the fate of the theater, would hinge on the success of tonight's show.

As audience members entered the premises, she had grown more and more nervous. Just two days ago, she only sang in front of her Angel. Now, she had to sing for not just dozens but hundreds of people who had traveled from all across the world.

She already knew that her fellow performers were apprehensive about how well she would do. After all, she only had time for one rehearsal yesterday. Though she had practiced all the songs in this play with Erik, acting was a whole other skill entirely.

A knock on her dressing room door interrupted her thoughts. She recognized the voice of one of the stagehands. "Ms. Daaé, the show will be starting in two minutes."

"Yes, thank you." She replied quickly.

There was no time to have doubts. Tonight, she was to have her moment in the spotlight. She had everything to gain… and everything to lose.

...

The musical began with a crowd-pleasing opening number where the dancers moved in joy and celebration, and the singers sang of their glorious victory in battle. Piangi, who was playing the male lead, had successfully set the stage for Christine's entrance.

She walked onto the stage, at first apprehensively. But as she looked at the audience and saw their excited eyes, she could feel her confidence building.

Something welled up inside her, and she was able to sing her heart out. No fear, no anxiety. Just passion for her music, for the song in her heart that had been building since the moment she first sang to her father back when she was only three years old.

Her father had looked at her with such pride and elation. "You have the voice of an angel, my dearest daughter." With tears in his eyes, he held her in his arms. "You're just like your mother."

Christine let the memory strengthen her, pushing her voice further and higher. The power of her song reached even the farthest seats in the theater.

As soon as the number was over, Christine felt all eyes on her.

At first, there was silence. But then the sounds of rapturous applause filled the theater. Even her fellow performers glanced at her, awestruck and delighted.

She struggled to keep tears of happiness from falling from her eyes and ruining her makeup. Her father would've been proud. Her masked tutor, well, she knew he was there with her. She glanced over at Box 5. Though she could not see him, she felt his pride and joy emanating from the seemingly empty booth.

...

The show had been a success. And quickly, Christine had become the talk of the town. As she made her way back to her dressing room, seemingly everyone wanted the chance to talk to her and congratulate her on her performance.

She smiled sheepishly, not knowing how to deal with all this new attention. She muttered her thanks and locked herself inside the dressing room.

Although she thought that she was finally alone and safe from everyone's newfound adoration, she found that her dressing room had been filled to the brim with different gifts—chocolates, bouquets of all sorts, and various colorful cards.

One gift stood out to her. There, in front of her mirror, lay a single long-stemmed white rose. Attached to it was a carefully rolled piece of paper held together by a black ribbon.

She immediately knew that it was from Erik. She unrolled the paper and smiled at his note:

_"__Dearest Christine,_

_Your Maestro could not have envisioned a more spectacular debut. Let's celebrate your triumph over dinner. 9 pm._

_Meet me at home._

_Yours,_

_Erik"_

Christine blushed at his note, not just because of the clear happiness and pride he had conveyed in the simple message but also because of that last sentence.

_Meet me at home_. These words brought her back to that night when he had asked her to move in with him. _We could have a home together_, he had told her. She still wasn't completely sure that it was what she wanted. But she always feels happy and at ease with him, despite his quirks and mysterious behavior. _Wasn't that what home was supposed to feel like_?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Little Lotte… may I come in and see you?"

Christine held her breath. She hadn't heard that nickname in years. Only two people in the world have ever called her "Little Lotte." The first was her father, Gustave Daaé.

And the other… her childhood sweetheart, Raoul de Chagny.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you, everyone, for the support and for letting me know your thoughts! I hope you're all enjoying the story so far ^^**


	11. Little Lotte

**Chapter 11: Little Lotte**

Apprehensively, Christine opened the door. There, she saw a young man dressed in a lovely tuxedo. His sandy blonde hair was cut short, and he held a bouquet of red roses in his hands.

He was no longer the boy she remembered… but it was definitely him. "Raoul! I can't believe it. You're here, oh, it's wonderful to see you!"

"Christine!" He smiled sweetly, locking her in a gentle embrace. As he handed her his bouquet of roses, he said "You were wonderful tonight. I hadn't known you were even in this play, but then when you sang, I recognized you. Little Lotte…"

She blushed at his kind words. Although she hasn't seen him since they were kids, she can't ever forget him. He was her first love.

They had met in France where his family resided. Christine's father was summoned to the de Chagny family mansion, where he was asked to perform during one of their coveted masquerade balls.

An 11-year-old Christine first locked eyes with the then 12-year-old Raoul during that same ball. Neither of them wanted to be there. After all, those sorts of parties were pretty boring for two kids. But luckily, they were able to sneak away together, playing in the woods near his family's home.

As Christine looked at this man standing in front of her, she still saw in him the same boyish spirit she had fallen in love with as a child. His beautiful blue eyes, his kind smile—they were all still there.

She gestured for him to enter her dressing room so that they could talk. He happily obliged.

"Little Lotte, please join me for dinner tonight." Raoul sweetly asked.

Christine bit her lip. She wanted to join him. But she already had that dinner plan with Erik. "Raoul, I… can't."

He looked puzzled by her reply but then quickly added, "Don't worry, Little Lotte. I'll pay for dinner."

Christine felt like she had just been slapped. "What? That's not at all what I meant!"

Eating humble pie, Raoul quickly realized the implication of his words. "No, no. I'm sorry. I wasn't implying anything and I didn't mean to offend you. I only wanted to let you know that I want tonight to be my treat."

"Yes, that's very generous of you, Raoul. But I have another dinner appointment."

Raoul's face fell. "Oh, of course… I'm sticking my foot in my mouth today, aren't I? I'm really sorry for assuming that you didn't have other plans. That was dumb on my part."

Although she was still a bit irked by his assumptions about her financial and social status, her face softened when she realized that he was sincerely sorry.

Raoul continued, "Can we please forget that this entire conversation happened? Let me start over." He cleared his throat. "Would you be interested in taking a walk with me this fine evening? I just want to catch up with my old friend. I promise that I won't keep you long and you won't have to miss your important dinner."

He smiled sheepishly. And the sweetness in his face really melted her heart.

"Okay, Raoul. Let's go for a walk and catch up. But I really can't be gone too long, okay?"

...

Raoul and Christine went for a walk around New York City. As they strolled around, passing by different stores and stalls, they talked fondly about their shared childhood memories.

Christine was glad to be hanging out with him. He made her relive those cute, sweet days they spent together in his family's summer home. This was back when her father was still alive. Back then, she was simply happy, not burdened by the responsibilities and challenges of adulthood.

They passed by a store selling winter clothing and Raoul pointed at a red scarf on display. "Hey, look at that. It looks a lot like your old scarf!" He chuckled, "Remember when you almost lost it in that river?"

How could Christine forget that moment? It was one of the highlights of their chaste childhood romance.

She was only 12 and he only 13. They were playing in the woods near his family's summer home. She was wearing her favorite scarf—a red wool scarf that her mother had knitted for her before she died. While they ran around near the riverbank, her scarf was blown away by the wind.

She tried to run after it but to no avail. The scarf landed in the river, and she cried because she thought she had lost it forever. Before she could utter another word, Raoul jumped into the river to retrieve it.

When Raoul emerged from the water with her scarf, she was so happy that she kissed his cheek. The young boy blushed profusely. Then, without another word, he took her by the hand and led her back to his house.

As they entered the large, sprawling mansion, Raoul and Christine were faced with different obstacles which the boy had elected to ignore. He ignored the taunts from his older brother Phillippe who was teasing him for holding hands with a girl. He ignored his mother's cries of indignation; she had gasped in shock and asked him why he was soaking wet. He ignored the angry stares from his housekeeper who reprimanded him for leaving his muddy footprints everywhere.

Instead, he rushed to the room where his father was having a meeting with Christine's father. Raoul turned his face toward his dad, puffed out his chest, looked up defiantly, and said, "Father, I'm going to marry Christine."

Their dads laughed heartily at Raoul's declaration, leaving the poor boy confused and heartbroken. "Ah, puppy love." Raoul's father had said, chuckling.

Christine's father looked at the young love birds, a mix of amusement and wistfulness in his eyes. "Don't be in a hurry to grow up yet, kids." He muttered softly, "Enjoy your youth."

...

Christine smiled as she recalled this memory. Her dad was right. She should have cherished those wonderful, innocent moments.

She had a vastly different life now. Briefly, she wondered if there was even room for Raoul in this new life of hers. She was working toward her dream career, and she had Erik waiting for her at _home_.

Little did she know that he wasn't waiting around for her at home. The shadow was standing right behind them, following their every move.

* * *

**A/N: We finally meet Raoul! And yes, we'll be seeing Erik's reaction to his sudden reappearance in Christine's life in the next chapter. :) haha!**

**Thank you for the lovely reviews, everyone! ^^**


	12. Afraid of Ghosts

**Chapter 12: Afraid of Ghosts**

Erik seethed in rage as he watched Christine and Raoul walk around the city together. Well, he's been brooding for a long while now because he had been watching them since the very beginning.

That hadn't been the plan. He had planned on going back to his house early to prepare for his dinner with Christine. But he couldn't help it… He wanted to see the look on Christine's face when she saw his rose and note. He was elated when he saw her smiling widely as she read his dinner invitation.

Immediately, he began picturing their evening together in his head. He'd cook a traditional Swedish meal because he knew that she missed Sweden and that she constantly thought about traveling back there one day.

Of course, he'd play her some music, maybe something from his newer compositions—the ones that he had written precisely for her. He hoped that they could dance together again; he loved the way she placed her head on his shoulders and her arms around his neck.

But then that _boy_ had to come along and ruin everything. As he watched Raoul hug Christine, he felt a tightness in his chest. Through the years, Erik had become accustomed to feeling negative emotions—sadness, anger, hatred, you name it. But this feeling… what he felt when he saw his Christine smiling happily at this boy, listening to her gush about how wonderful it was that he was here. He couldn't bear this feeling. It was too much.

How dare he. How dare that _insolent boy_ just burst into his Christine's dressing room and demand that she dine with him. Suddenly, he heard Christine's reply to the boy's invitation and he felt himself relaxing.

"Raoul, I… can't." Erik smiled at Christine's straightforward rejection. How did he get so lucky? Despite his many sins, why has the universe blessed him with such a perfect woman?

The boy was persistent, though. He bumbled his way through the conversation and soon Christine had agreed to go for a walk with him. Erik's heart crumbled as he watched Raoul extend his arm to Christine and she looped her arm around his willingly.

A voice inside Erik's head asked him to just give up, go home. _She doesn't want you. She doesn't love you. Look at how quickly she can find another man to accompany her—a rich, handsome man. A better man._

He tried to silence his negative thoughts and emotions, but they had overwhelmed his senses. _I mean, really, Erik? How could she want you? With your monstrous face and your distorted soul? Let her be with the boy who is better than you in every possible way. _The voice in his head taunted him, laughed at his tears.

Erik had followed Christine and Raoul as they walked around. He didn't know what he had wanted to accomplish by spying on them. But he knew that he couldn't trust this boy around his Christine. _No_, he snapped back at the voice in his head. _He can never have her. Not while I live and breathe_.

...

Raoul and Christine were happy walking around together. Their night, however, was cut short when Christine glanced at her watch. "Raoul, I'm sorry. I really have to go. It's almost 9 pm, and this dinner is a really important one."

He looked at her with a slight sadness in his eyes. "I understand, Little Lotte."

Then, his eyes sparked as if he suddenly remembered something important, "Wait! Before you go, I do want to ask you something. You see, the reason why I'm in New York… well, my father, my family is financing your theater. You know my family, how they love supporting music and the arts.

But then we heard these rumors about a ghost and, well, my father wanted me to investigate. Just to make sure that we weren't investing our money in some cursed little shack. It's all a bit silly, to be frank."

Raoul chuckled slightly. He hadn't even noticed the look of discomfort on Christine's face as he talked. "Anyway," he continued, "I just wanted to ask you… since you work there, do you think there actually is a phantom in your theater?"

Christine bit her lip, not sure what to say. Before, she didn't believe that the theater ghost was real. But Christine was more observant than she let on. When Erik had taken her to his house and casually mentioned that he used many different subway tunnels to go around the city, she had begun suspecting things.

She was telling him that the commute to work was awful and then jokingly asked him if any of his secret passageways had a path that led directly to the theater. He blinked in surprise, hesitating to answer her question. He gave her a meek "yes" and that was the end of the conversation.

Christine didn't want to believe that Erik was some kind of malicious entity haunting the theater. But really, it all made sense. Erik _had_ been watching her behind the walls of the rehearsal studio when she first met him. He didn't like showing himself to others but he was very invested in the goings-on at the theater. He moved around quietly, often sneaking up behind her whenever she least expected it.

And then there was that yellow eye of his. She initially dismissed stories about the theater ghost because many of the rumors sounded so absurd and surreal. _Really? A tall man in a black cloak with yellow eyes would scare off mediocre performers, leave notes about costume design changes, and blackmail Mr. Lefevre into paying him?_ It all sounded like the work of an overactive imagination.

And besides, she has worked in the theater for months now. She's never had a single encounter with any sort of supernatural entity… at least as far as she knew.

Now, she has actually met and spent time with a tall man who had _at least one_ yellow eye and who seemed to favor black clothing. Everything just started clicking into place.

"Raoul, I think…" She cleared her throat, parsing her words carefully. "When I was young, my papa used to tell me stories about angels. He said that people who died with unfinished business would be cursed to wander the earth. They could only make their way to Heaven after they achieved closure. Then, they can become angels."

"I'm not following…" Raoul furrowed his brow.

Christine sighed. "What I'm saying is that maybe we shouldn't be so afraid of ghosts. I think… I genuinely think that some ghosts are only angels who have lost their way."


	13. Beneath the Moonless Sky

**Chapter 13: Beneath the Moonless Sky**

After saying goodbye to Raoul, Christine took a cab ride to a place she now partly considered "home." She hurriedly opened the doors of the rehearsal studio and then locked herself in.

Yesterday morning, before the final dress rehearsal, Erik had told her what to do to get back inside the secret entrance. He was still very secretive about all of his other passageways but he at least trusted her with the path through the mirror.

"When the time comes and you wish to return here, all you need to do is sing in front of the mirror. And it will open for you." He had told her.

Christine thought about what she wanted to sing. A song about victory and triumph? Or something mushy and romantic, maybe? She blushed at the thought of serenading Erik, though she knew that he would love that.

She settled for a song about fulfilling your dreams. It was appropriate for the occasion, after all, and it fit her range.

As soon as she had finished the song, she waited eagerly for _something_ to happen. But no, the mirror stayed closed.

Confused, she tried touching it, looking around for some kind of secret button or lever. _Maybe it's broken?_ She thought. Or maybe Erik _was_ expecting her to sing some kind of love song for him. _That man can be really picky sometimes_, Christine thought.

She opened her mouth to try another song, but then a voice spoke up behind her. "That was a lovely song, my dear. But I am sorry for lying. The mirror's not going to open by singing alone."

She turned around to look up at Erik. He was grinning widely, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Then why the hell did you tell me that it was going to magically open when I sang to it?!"

Erik chuckled, and she felt her anger and disbelief melting away. "I truly am sorry, my dear. The original plan went like this: I would be behind the mirror waiting for you. Then, you'd come around and sing. I'd open the entrance from behind the mirror. Like magic. There would be fog everywhere. Doves were going to fly out. It would've been _spectacular_." He said with a flourish.

She laughed a bit at the image of him dramatically opening the mirror for her. But then she thought of his words. _Original plan?_ "So, if that was your plan… what changed?"

He was silent. Hesitantly, he stood closer to her. "I wanted tonight to be perfect. But I wasn't able to make the necessary preparations. I got… distracted."

She kept quiet, waiting for him to explain further. This was so unlike him. He always seemed to be prepared for everything. Had something happened to him today?

Erik noticed the worried look on her face and cleared his throat. "I am quite fine, my dear. But I'm afraid that I haven't made any dinner preparations. If you could forgive your Maestro, he's getting older now, you see."

Christine chuckled at that. "You're not elderly yet, Erik… or are you?" Her eyes widened. He was definitely at least a decade or so older than her, but she couldn't guess his exact age. _Late thirties to early forties_, she had guessed. _But maybe he's wayyyy older than he looks…_

Erik grinned at the befuddled expression on her face. "I said that I was getting older. I didn't say I was _elderly_." He rolled his eyes dramatically, making Christine laugh out loud.

"Anyway," he continued, "maybe we could go for a walk and find someplace else to eat?"

_A walk? Outside? Where the people are?!_ This was not like the Erik she knows. She was now certain that something did happen to him today. But she wasn't going to push him for answers just yet.

Because the thought of going for an evening stroll with him was just too good to resist.

...

The evening sky had turned dark and cloudy as Christine and Erik walked around together. Still, even in the night-time, New York was so alive and vibrant. The city lights were beautiful and Christine silently wondered why she didn't take walks like this more often.

Though Erik did not say a word, she noticed his discomfort around other people. Every time a person passed them by, he would look down and instinctively place his arms around himself as if he were warding off bad spirits. She didn't like seeing him so scared and anxious, but she couldn't help feeling flattered. _He doesn't like going outside… but he's doing this for me._

She wanted to help him become more comfortable. So, she decided to loop her arm around his. Although she couldn't see his face too clearly behind the mask, she could tell that he cherished her touch. His body visibly relaxed, and Christine's heart fluttered.

They walked around in a comfortable silence until Erik paused and told her to pick a place to eat—anywhere she liked. She had thought about going to _Bella Notte_, a fancy Italian restaurant that she's always wanted to try, but that place was always crowded. She knew that Erik wouldn't be down for that.

Instead, she opted for a small diner. Nothing too fancy but not a dingy little shack either. Aside from one couple sitting tables away from them, the place was practically empty.

In his mind, Erik silently thanked her for her choice. He was willing to do a lot of things for her, but spending time in a crowded restaurant wasn't something he was ready for just yet.

As they sat across from each other, waiting for the food they had ordered to arrive, Christine thought that now was the right time to ask him about what was on his mind. Because clearly, it was bothering him and maybe talking about it could help. "So," she cleared her throat, "what brought on this sudden desire to walk around the city?"

Erik thought long and hard about what he wanted to say to her. But the words did not come easily. What could he tell her? That he had spied on her stroll with the boy? That he suddenly realized everything Raoul could give her that he could not?

_The boy could take her to that fancy restaurant she wanted to go to earlier_, Erik thought. _He could show off his face to the world without worrying about negative attention_.

Erik still clearly remembered the look of disgust his mother had given him when he first asked her for a kiss. The jeers, laughter, and looks of pity he got from strangers who paid to watch him stumble around in a cage. The look of horror on that one girl's face when he first unmasked himself in front of her.

He let his sadness and self-loathing consume him. No one will ever wonder why Christine would choose Raoul. With Erik, Christine will have to get used to being gawked at when they walk around together. In Erik's experience, people would always stare at a man wearing a mask. But he knew that the attention he'd get _without a mask_ would be far worse than the curious stares he noticed during their stroll.

And although Erik had a lot of money (_more money than he knew what to do with, at least_), the boy was rich beyond belief. He could give Christine every comfort and luxury that money can buy. With Erik, she'll have to make compromises, including living underground.

The boy was also close to Christine's age. Compared to Erik, Raoul has more years of life left in him. Erik didn't want to think about Christine becoming a young widow.

Didn't his Christine deserve to be happy? Even if her happiness didn't include him?

Erik's heart twisted in a knot. And although he stayed silent, he knew that his feelings were clearly painted in his eyes.

Christine touched his gloved hand. "Erik, are you alright? What's wrong? Please let me help you."

Gazing at her longingly, he sighed and said, "Do you love him, Christine?"

She furrowed her brow. "Who…" Then, a sudden realization hit her. She _had _noticed a peculiar shadow moving behind her and Raoul earlier. "_I knew it!_ I knew you were spying on me! God, I thought I was going crazy. But it was just you."

"Well, _answer me_. Do you love him?" Erik's voice was cold and steely.

"Yes, of course, I love him," Christine whispered.

Erik felt like he had just been stabbed. _No_, he thought. _Death can't feel worse than this._ He stood from their dining table and looked like he was going to walk away.

Christine stood and grabbed his arm. "You didn't let me finish, Erik. Yes, I love Raoul. But as a friend. I haven't seen him since we were children, for God's sake! I do care for him, but not in a romantic way. Not…" she hesitated, "not like what we have."

Erik didn't move or say a word, but his expression had softened. Still holding his arm, Christine moved closer to give him a kiss.


	14. The Talk

**Chapter 14: The Talk**

The kiss Erik and Christine had shared in that diner was the first one they've had since the night they slept together. When Erik had cooked her breakfast in the morning and when he helped her overcome her stage fright, Christine had expected that he would kiss her again.

But he never did.

He seemed afraid of touching her sometimes. And he almost always waited for her to initiate any physical contact with him.

At the time, Christine wondered whether he felt the strong, intense feelings she had for him. Maybe the chemistry she felt with him was only in her head. Maybe he only wanted a one-night stand. Maybe, after their night together, he realized that he only likes her as a friend but he doesn't know how to tell her.

But when they kissed again that night in the diner, all of her doubts and insecurities faded away. Erik eagerly returned her kiss, his lips almost devouring hers. She slipped her tongue in his mouth, and he moaned softly at the sensation. He looked at her with hunger in his eyes, and she wondered whether he could feel her heart beating uncontrollably in her chest.

Their passionate display was interrupted by the voice of a weary-sounding older woman. "_Ehem_."

Erik and Christine pulled away in embarrassment. The waitress smirked at them, "Sorry, hon. Didn't wanna interrupt but yer food's gettin' cold." She chuckled softly and shook her head as she walked away.

They both ate silently for a little while. Mostly because they were still embarrassed by their very public display of affection. But also, they kept quiet because neither of them understood what had just happened.

Were they officially a couple now? Christine had to know.

"Erik," she started, "I, um…" _I love you?_ Is that what she wanted to say? She definitely felt _something_ for him. But she pushed that feeling away. _It's too early to be saying things like this_, she thought. Technically, they've only really known each other for three days.

And, although she felt safe around him, she didn't _trust_ him too much yet. He _did_ practically just admit that he was following her and Raoul around the city. Also, if her suspicions were correct, then Erik has been messing with people from the theater. He's probably been extorting the managers and scaring off some of the performers.

Could she really love him despite suspecting that he was behind all of the "accidents" in the theater? No, she can't tell him that yet. She can't fully give him her heart just yet.

"I know what you're going to say, Christine."

Her mouth opened in surprise. "Um, you do?"

"Yes," he stated plainly. _I know you can't love me back, Christine. My own mother couldn't love me._

Not wanting to hear Christine's rejection, he opted to change the subject. "You wanted to know about the theater's next production. I know for a fact that the managers will be doing _The Countess and the Pageboy_. It's based on the old Italian opera, _Il Muto_. Definitely one of my finer compositions, and we can start preparing you for the lead role as early as today."

_What?_ Christine resisted the urge to facepalm. _That's not even close to what I wanted to say!_

But she honestly didn't know what to tell him so she just went with it. "Do you think I have a shot at the lead? Carlotta always gets these parts."

"You will have more than a shot, Christine. They would be _fools_ not to cast you as the Countess after your debut in _Hannibal_ today." He smirked, "besides, it's my composition and I wrote it specifically for you." Christine felt her cheeks turn red at his words.

He continued, "I think the composer of the score should have a say on who gets cast in the role, don't you?"

Christine bit her lip. If he was asking her for permission to mess with the managers in order to get her the role, then no. That's not what she wanted. "Erik, I know you have some pull at the theater…" _Because you're the theater ghost, aren't you?_ "…being a composer and all. But I want to do this on my own. Please don't ask them to cast me."

Erik stared at her, puzzled by her request. "Christine, you do realize that talent alone isn't enough to help an individual succeed in show business. You think Carlotta gets the lead roles just because she has a well-trained voice? She's sleeping with Piangi, the fat, old tenor who's beloved in the Broadway world. That's why they keep casting her. These connections are necessary."

"Yes, well, that's not what I want." Christine stood her ground. "If I'm going to get the lead role, it's going to be because I deserve it and not because you bribed the managers into casting me."

Erik looked at her in disbelief. Christine could almost hear the cogs turning in his head. He seemed to be fighting against his instincts… but he stood down. "As you wish."

Christine felt pride swelling in her chest. Maybe she was being paranoid about this whole phantom thing. Erik seemed to be a reasonable man. He was certainly kind to her and he respected her, didn't he? Maybe it could work out between them, after all.

She felt giddy with excitement. After years of singing only to her papa, she was finally, _finally_ working towards her dream of becoming a professional singer. The audience seemed to respond well to her performance in _Hannibal_, so maybe the managers would consider her for the lead in the next production. And she was going to earn that spot without help from Erik!

Well, maybe she still needed a _little_ help. "Erik… you're still going to help me practice the songs, right?"

He laughed out loud at her sudden sheepishness. "Of course, my dear. You know I would do _anything_ for you."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews. I read and cherish every single one :') Hope you guys continue enjoying this story. It's going to start getting more dramatic from this point on haha!**


	15. Facing Reality

**Chapter 15: Facing Reality**

For Christine, the past month seems to have flown by quickly. Since her debut in _Hannibal_, she had almost become a bit of a celebrity in the neighborhood where her dormitory was located. People would recognize her when she passed them by. Strangers would walk up to her and tell her that they enjoyed her performance. To her surprise, some would even ask for an autograph or ask to take a selfie with her.

Her roommates had also become nicer to her, she noticed. She was no longer invisible to them. They had even begun asking her why she always came home so late and where she'd disappear to sometimes.

She would blush, not fully trusting them to know the truth about her peculiar relationship with her tutor. She would give them half-truths. "I was just with my voice coach. He's helping me practice for the next production."

They would believe her, of course. Why wouldn't they? Only her best friend Meg suspected that her story was incomplete.

On the night that Christine ran away from the dress rehearsal and stayed over at Erik's place, Meg had left her plenty of missed calls. Christine had shut off her phone because she was… busy.

_Busy letting your voice coach pleasure you with his skilled fingers while you stroked his length_, she flushed as the memories of that night came flooding back to her.

Meg was rightfully furious when she showed up at the theater on the next morning. "Where in the world were you hiding, Christine?! I was so worried about you! You weren't at your dorm. I went to the rehearsal studio to check on you, and you weren't there! I was calling you all night and I couldn't reach you! I thought you were kidnapped or something!"

"I'm so sorry, Meg. You're right. I shouldn't have just disappeared like that. I wasn't in a good place, emotionally speaking. And I just needed to get away. I'm so sorry that I worried you and Madame Giry."

Meg's expression softened at Christine's apology. "Well, I'm just glad you're okay…" She pulled Christine into her arms and held her tight, "And your audition was perfect! I mean, I knew you could sing but _damn_! You've been holding out on me all this time. So, what's your _secret_?"

Christine laughed lightly. "Well, I have a good tutor…"

For the past month, Meg been pestering her for details about her mysterious music teacher. Christine understood that her best friend was just looking out for her. But it was hard to tell her the whole truth.

What was she going to say? _Well, I met him at the rehearsal studio. He was sort of stalking me behind the walls. But he was a perfect gentleman the entire time so I didn't think too much about it. Then, I finally met him and now I think we're sort of dating. But not really. We haven't talked about it. Also, he may or may not be the phantom in the theater._

Christine thought she'd sound like a lunatic, so she decided to only give Meg slightly more detailed half-truths. "He's my voice coach… but we also have a… _thing_ going on."

Meg raised an eyebrow at her and then laughed out loud. "_I knew it._ I knew you've been getting laid. How could you not tell me this, Chris? Come on. I need details. Spill!"

Christine blushed. "Meg, I don't know if I want to talk about that."

"C'mon, Chris. I've told you all about my exes. It's only fair." Meg teased, "So, what does he look like? Is he any good in bed? _Dick size_?"

"Meg, STOP!" Christine slapped Meg's arm, her face turning red with embarrassment. The two girls laughed uncontrollably.

Meg smiled widely at Christine, wiping happy tears from her eyes. "Okay, okay. I won't ask you about his bedroom skills. But tell me, are things _serious_ between you two? Why are you being so secretive about this? You always used to tell me all about the guys you liked." Meg looked at her with a slight pout and Christine couldn't help feeling guilty.

"The truth is, I liked keeping our romance secret. It just felt _right_. Like it was only something that he and I shared. He makes my heart soar, Meg. When we make music together, it's like magic. I didn't know how to explain it to anyone, so I just kept it to myself."

Meg looked at her with a serious expression. "Oh, God. It _does_ sound serious. Well, I'm at least happy that you're getting back to normal. I was really worried, you know, after…" she hesitated, "after your dad died. Sometimes I thought I wouldn't ever see you smile again."

Christine locked Meg into an embrace. "Thank you for still looking out for me. I know I was a real stick-in-the-mud the past few months."

"Yes," Meg said softly, "You were honestly a real bitch sometimes."

Christine slapped Meg's arm again. The two girls hugged each other and laughed together like there was no tomorrow.

...

The day after Christine talked to Meg was the day that the managers would finally announce the cast for _The Countess and the Pageboy_. She was giddy with excitement, ready to finally get the validation she desired.

She had been working so hard this past month. Even though they were sort-of dating, Erik was still strict with Christine when it came to their singing lessons. He would always try to push her to her limit, helping her develop her range and master the challenging arias.

Sometimes, Christine liked pushing him out of his "strict tutor" mode by showering him with affection. One time, as she sat next to him on the piano stool, she placed her hand on his thigh and started caressing it. He stopped playing and froze like a deer in headlights. Then, he gently took her hand, gave it a quick kiss, and awkwardly placed her hand back on her lap.

_Wow_, Christine thought, _his self-control is extraordinary_. She couldn't help but be amused by the flustered expression on his face and his clear awkwardness as he returned her hand. _I love him so much_.

After their lessons, though, it was a vastly different story. Christine could never really share the details with Meg but her nights with Erik were, shall we say, _satisfying_. He was always so intense and passionate yet so gentle and attentive at the same time.

Even in the bedroom, they seemed to make beautiful music together. Christine could close her eyes and hear his sweet moans, the way his breath hitched whenever she touched him, the sound of her nails digging into the small of his back, that deep, throaty grunt he made as he reached his ecstasy.

To her dismay, Erik still hasn't allowed her to see his whole face. But when she told him how uncomfortable his mask felt when they kissed, they did find a solution that makes things easier for both of them… at least for now. Before taking his mask and wig off, Erik would blindfold her.

She didn't want to say it out loud, but it worked for her. Not being able to see a thing made things sexier—her other three senses seem to have heightened. The sound, taste, and feel of him were intoxicating to her.

She just wanted to be with him. She didn't want to doubt him anymore, didn't want to believe that he was some menacing phantom.

But, alas, she had to face reality.

Little did she know that the events of today's casting would change everything.


	16. The Shadow of Our Doubts

**Chapter 16: The Shadow of Our Doubts**

As Christine entered the theater, she eagerly ran backstage where the managers had posted the final casting sheet. She was confident that she'd be cast as the lead. After all, her audition went wonderfully. She still remembers the mad look on Carlotta's face when the managers happily applauded her audition. Although she didn't want to jinx things, she knew she had this in the bag.

Her confidence slowly started to fade as she approached the board where the managers had placed the casting sheet. As she walked over to it, she saw Carlotta smiling haughtily at her. Piangi was holding Carlotta's arm, clearly pleased with whatever he read on the sheet.

_Uh-oh_, Christine thought. _This is not a good sign._

Christine felt her heart deflating as she read the casting sheet:

_"The Countess and the Pageboy"_

_(Based on Il Muto; Composed by Erik Lowell)_

_Carlotta Guidicelli – The Countess_

_Ubaldo Piangi – The Count_

_Christine Daaé – The Pageboy_

_Ashley Simmons – Lady #1 / Understudy (The Countess)_

_Marc Ryan – Fop #1 / Understudy (The Count)_

_John Fitz – Fop #2_

She clutched at her chest, trying not to let Carlotta or anyone else see the pain and disappointment in her eyes. She was, of course, hurt that she didn't get the lead and that she wasn't even cast to be Carlotta's understudy. But, most of all, it stung that the role they gave her was practically that of a glorified extra.

In this production, the character of The Pageboy was mute. Her only role was to pretend to be in love with Carlotta's character. So, Christine didn't even have any lines and she didn't get to sing onstage. Silently, she wished they'd cast her as Fop #2 instead. At least that dude will get to sing one line in the show.

She struggled to keep her tears from falling. _Well, look on the bright side, Christine_, she thought to herself, _at least you know that Erik kept his promise about not making the managers cast you in the lead_.

Christine walked out of the theater, practically in a daze. Meg had tried to run to her when she noticed how distraught she was, but Meg knew Christine well. She knew that Christine needed some time alone to let off some steam, so she let her be.

Raoul, on the other hand, didn't really know Christine's moods that well. All he knew was that he saw she was upset and that he wanted to help her.

He was still in New York City, trying to hunt down a ghost that he wasn't sure existed. But his father had insisted that Raoul had to be certain that the theater was phantom-free before he went back to Paris.

Honestly, Raoul didn't mind extending his stay in New York. He quite liked the place, and… he liked being near Christine. She was his first love, and you don't forget your first love that easily.

He was in awe when he watched her sing at the audition for _The Countess and the Pageboy_. Although he didn't voice out his opinions to the managers, nor did they ask him for any sort of feedback about the production, he was certain that Christine deserved to play the lead.

Her voice was crystal clear, powerful, and even a bit playful when needed. He thought that she fit The Countess perfectly. But, apparently, the managers thought otherwise.

Raoul was so confused when he read the casting sheet and saw that they gave Christine the silent role. _Why would they want to keep such a beautiful voice hidden from the world?_ He wondered to himself.

The only thing that snapped him out of his confusion was the look of utter despair in Christine's eyes when she read the sheet. He wanted to reach out to her and comfort her. But he wasn't completely sure if it was the right thing to do.

He sees Christine all the time when she comes to the theater. At one point, he even asked her out on a date and she had politely turned him down. "Raoul, I'm flattered, really. I like you a lot… But I'm seeing someone. We can still be friends, though."

After that, their conversations became a lot briefer and slightly tenser. Raoul almost regretted asking her out. He didn't want to make things awkward between them, but he had to try. Really, he still felt something for her.

Raoul was used to girls fawning over him all the time. He's let plenty of stunning models, actresses, and Instagram influencers into his bed. But he always felt empty after each one of those trysts. Somehow, he knew that those girls didn't really like him. They liked his face and his body. They liked his money. They liked his expensive clothes and luxurious lifestyle. But they never liked _him_.

Christine was different. When he was around her, he never had to pretend to be somebody he's not. He was just Raoul to her, and he knew he couldn't just let her go.

So, he ran after her even though he knew that her heart currently belonged to another.

After all, how could he have known? How could he have known that the shadow had been watching his every move?


	17. Distraction

**Chapter 17: Distraction**

Christine walked around aimlessly for a while, not really sure where she was going or what she wanted to do. All she knew was that she wanted to get as far away from the theater as possible. She tried to calm herself. _This is silly, Christine. It's just a dumb role. There will be plenty of other roles, plenty of other shows. Why are you beating yourself up over this?_

She spotted a nearby park and proceeded to walk out onto the open field. All around her, children were playing, people were walking their dogs, couples were strolling around hand in hand. Everyone looked so happy and peaceful. It made her feel even more miserable.

But before she could fully descend into her routine bouts of self-pity, she heard a voice behind her. "Christine!"

Raoul was running toward her, somewhat hesitantly. "Hey, um, I know you're not doing okay right now, so I wondered… did you maybe want some company?"

She thought about it. Her first instinct, of course, was to ask him to give her space, tell him that she wasn't really in the mood to talk to anyone right now. But something about the way his usually sunny eyes gleamed with concern made her reconsider her decision. "Sure, Raoul. I was just walking around anyway."

He seemed surprised but delighted by her reply. "Oh, okay then."

They walked in silence for a while, but Raoul was clearly not used to being quiet for too long. "So, um… About the play. You definitely should've been the lead. Your audition was awesome."

She smiled weakly. "Thank you. But it's fine really."

"No, it's not fine. Look, Carlotta is _good_. But you… you were amazing!" He puffed his chest out proudly, "And I'm not just saying that because we're friends. You know how I don't usually like classical music? Your audition made me appreciate it for the first time."

Christine gave him a genuine smile. He was being sincere. She could see it in the way his eyes sparkled as he talked. "Thank you, Raoul. That does mean a lot to me."

She then sighed and said, "But music has been my entire life for the past few months and I sincerely need a break from it."

"I'm sure music hasn't been your _entire _life. I mean, you have your friends and…" Raoul hesitated, "and your boyfriend. I'm sure you have plenty of other things going on in your life besides theater."

She chuckled. "My friends also work in the theater, dummy."

He laughed lightly and gave her an apologetic smile.

"And my boyfriend composed the music for the whole damn show."

Raoul's mouth opened in surprise. "You mean… your boyfriend is Erik Lowell, the famous composer? You've actually met _the_ Erik Lowell."

Christine looked at him incredulously. "I'm surprised that you know who that is. I thought you didn't follow the theater scene."

Raoul laughed. "I don't. My father loves his compositions, though. He never shuts up about him, 'the brilliant yet reclusive composer.' He thinks he's a genius. You know, father has tried to contact Erik Lowell but the man's notoriously hard to find. His compositions are world-renowned and yet no one knows anything about him. You can't even find his picture on Google. He's like a ghost."

_Yeah. You don't even know the half of it_, Christine mused to herself. Erik was talented at being a ghost. Even though she probably knew him better than anyone, she realized that she still didn't know much about him.

"So," Raoul inquired, "how exactly did you meet this man? My father would never forgive me if he found out that I met someone who had contact with him and didn't try to set up a meeting."

Christine didn't know what to say. She didn't expect that Raoul would be familiar with Erik's work, let alone that he would be interested in talking about him. Did she really want to talk about her relationship with Erik with _Raoul _of all people?

No, she didn't even want to _think_ about Erik right now. Whenever she tries to picture Erik, she keeps imagining his disappointed and resigned face. She didn't want to hear him say "_I told you so. You needed me to get you that part_."

She suddenly realized why the casting had made her so sad. It wasn't just because she didn't get the lead or that she got cast in a role that didn't involve singing. She was heartbroken because she had wanted to prove to Erik—and herself—that her talent was all she needed to succeed. That she didn't need his _interference_ to be a star.

Christine looked up to Raoul, smiled weakly at him, and said, "Raoul, can we… not talk about music or theater or anything like that for now? Let's just hang out and have some fun."

Raoul smiled, seeming to understand her need for a distraction. "Leave it to me, Little Lotte."

...

The more time Christine spent with Raoul, the more she realized why they had been such good friends before. Raoul wasn't just sweet and caring. He was fun!

He had a way of making even the most ordinary situations seem like an adventure.

Christine has been residing in New York City for almost a year, yet she has barely even explored the place. Raoul, with his wanderlust and boundless energy, led her to all sorts of areas and activities she never would've seen or tried otherwise.

Christine felt her youth returning to her. She's only 24 but, ever since her dad died, she had felt like an old woman. When he passed away, there were suddenly so many problems that she needed to address—her papa's hospital bills, funeral arrangements, rent payments for her dorm, employment, plans for the future. Now, with Raoul, she finally felt her age again.

They went to the zoo, played games at an arcade, and went on some amusement park rides. She felt a little silly about it at first but she was thankful that he had accompanied her around the city.

For this particular day, Raoul was the perfect companion for her. In many ways, they were total opposites but this was a major plus to Christine right now. She and Erik were both pretty intense and moody, so a break from all of that drama was welcome.

Raoul didn't know much about music so he didn't bring the topic up. He wasn't afraid to look like a total goofball in front of other people and he always found a way to make Christine laugh out loud. He was bright and bubbly, helping her to forget whatever worries she had earlier. And he pushed her out of her comfort zone by making her try new things.

He was like a ray of sunshine, defiantly showing up during Christine's rainstorm of a mood. Suddenly, she longed for a love story as simple, pure, and uncomplicated as this. With Raoul, everything was so _easy_. He was an open book, unlike the secretive and guarded Erik. She never worried about whether or not _Raoul_ was secretly haunting a theater while she wasn't paying attention.

Raoul was so _normal_. She wondered briefly whether this was what she needed, what she wanted.

As they strolled around, he suddenly paused and invited her to have dinner with him at _Bella Notte_. This time, she couldn't think of a reason to say "no" to him.


	18. Make Your Choice

**Chapter 18: Make Your Choice**

Raoul and Christine were almost finished eating their dinner. As she devoured the last few forkfuls of cake she had on her plate, she realized that had a choice to make: _where do I go after this is all over?_

Should she head to her dorm or should she go and see Erik at home? Although she and Erik hadn't made any actual plans for tonight, she figured that he was expecting her to come over to talk about the casting.

Christine wondered whether Erik was already aware that she didn't get the part. She was _not_ looking forward to having that conversation with him…

Raoul noticed how quiet Christine suddenly got. He worried that he had said something that upset her. "Christine? Little Lotte? What is it?"

"It's nothing, Raoul." She said meekly, "Thank you for spending time with me today and for the dinner. It was lovely."

"Christine," Raoul said as he reached for her hand, "Today was my pleasure. You know that I'll always be here for you."

"Thank you, Raoul. You're a great friend."

Raoul seemed hurt by her words but he was trying hard not to let it show. "Christine, I know you're seeing someone else. But I really need you to know that… that I still love you very much. I loved the girl I used to know and, more importantly, I love the woman you've become."

Christine almost choked on her cake. She then awkwardly moved her hand away from Raoul's. No, she shouldn't be feeling these things for Raoul. She loved someone else, didn't she?

"You're passionate, strong, smart, kind, and beautiful. When I'm with you, everything else seems to fade away." He continued, "And… your boyfriend is a lucky man. I hope he understands how insanely lucky he is."

"Raoul, I…" she was speechless. What could she say? His words were ringing in her ears.

Raoul smiled at her—a sweet, loving, sincere smile. There were no pretenses, no hidden meanings behind his words. He was just holding his heart out for Christine to see, and she couldn't help but feel affected by just how open he was being with her.

"You don't have to make any decisions yet, Christine. I just wanted to tell you because I want you to know that I'm willing to fight for you. If you tell me that you don't feel anything for me and that you're truly in love with someone else, I'll go. I won't bother you about this ever again…"

He paused, hoping that she wasn't aware of just how fast his heart was beating. "But if you just say the word, say that you love me too, I'm all yours. My heart is all yours, Christine… It's your choice to make."

Christine was faced with two decisions to make that night, and even now as she rode a cab away from _Bella Notte_, she wasn't sure if she made the right choices.

After hearing Raoul's plea, she didn't—couldn't—give a straight answer. She stood from the table, thanked him for the dinner, and meekly mumbled something about taking time to think about what he said. She ran away from the restaurant as fast as she could, desperately waving her hands at every cab that passed her way.

Once a cab driver finally noticed her, she climbed aboard and shut the door as promptly as possible. "Where to, miss?" the cab driver asked as he looked at her through the rearview mirror.

Her heart pounded and she cursed under her breath. She realized that she had another decision to make. Should she head for her dorm or make her way to Erik, knowing that he was probably waiting for her there?

Reluctantly, she gave the driver the address to her dorm. _Maybe I just need some sleep. Maybe the answers will just come to me as soon as I wake up_.

As soon as she got to her dorm, she drifted into a dreamless slumber.

But even in sleep, the weight of her choices threatened to crush her and everything she held dear.

...

"Wake up, Christine! Wake up! C'mon! We have to go!" Meg yelled frantically.

Christine woke up, startled and anxious. "What… what's going on?"

"The managers want everyone to come over to the theater immediately. They said that it's an emergency. Apparently, someone got crushed under heavy stage lights."

_No, it couldn't be_. Christine's heart was racing.

Despite the fact that she neither wanted nor expected that something like this could happen, she couldn't help but feel like this was her fault.

Maybe avoiding that conversation with Erik wasn't the right decision after all.

* * *

**A/N: Our favorite Phantom is not happy. Haha! **

**Anyway, thank you, everyone, for all the lovely reviews. You are all inspiring me to keep going and keep improving my writing skills ^_^**


	19. The Phantom's Notes

**Chapter 19: The Phantom's Notes**

Joseph Buquet, the man who was crushed under a few heavy stage lights, was carted away in a stretcher. As Christine and Meg made their way to the theater, they found emergency medical workers trying very hard to restrain him and keep him from making his injuries worse.

The bloodied man, covered in glass shards, seemed delirious. He was ranting about yellow eyes, black cloaks, and ghostly auras.

"I saw him! The phantom! He's real!" Joseph cried as he was pulled into the ambulance.

Christine and Meg looked at the man with pity. No one really liked Joseph Buquet. He was a stagehand who enjoyed harassing the ballerinas, catcalling them and making them uncomfortable every chance he got.

But despite the fact that they loathed this man, they couldn't help but feel bad for him. He was scarred for life and scared out of his wits. _No one deserves that_, Christine thought to herself.

As the ambulance left the scene, the managers gestured for everyone to gather around. The entire cast and crew of _The Countess and the Pageboy_ silently huddled forward.

"Right. Well, this was an unfortunate accident…" Mr. Andre started.

"Accident?!" one of the stagehands spoke up, "You know that this is no accident. This is the work of the theater ghost!"

Mr. Firmin spoke up, "We have absolutely no proof that a ghost even exists. These sorts of accidents can happen in any theater. The stage lights were likely not rigged up properly and Buquet had the misfortune of standing underneath them."

The stagehand seemed livid. He glared at the managers. "I know for a fact that those lights were set up properly because I rigged them up myself. Are you insinuating that I don't know how to do my job?!"

Mr. Andre stood between the stagehand and his partner. He gave a sympathetic smile. "Now, now. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all of this…"

The man continued yelling. "This was an attempted assassination. The theater ghost went after Buquet because he knew too much!"

Mr. Firmin scoffed. "I've said it once and I'll say it again… There's no ghost. A prankster with a mischievous streak, perhaps. But not this _phantom_ that I keep hearing so much about."

Ashley Simmons, the girl who was cast as Carlotta's understudy, spoke up. "But sirs… what about the notes?"

Mr. Andre and Mr. Firmin looked around anxiously. Everyone turned their attention toward Ashley.

"I'm sorry for spying, sirs. But I did see you reading the phantom's notes. I think… I think that we have the right to know what's going on. We need to know if these are actually accidents or something else entirely." Ashley bravely spoke up.

Mr. Andre sighed. He looked toward his partner who seemed to nod meekly. "Very well… As we said, we have no idea if this was the work of a quote-unquote _ghost_. But we did receive anonymously written letters that seemed to imply that the incident was the result of our, shall we say, poor decision-making."

It soon became clear to everyone that the managers had received plenty of threatening letters before, commanding them to make certain decisions about the show. But the two managers ignored the warnings, thinking that they were merely the work of a disgruntled employee.

Mr. Firmin read the letters out loud:

"_Mister Firmin,_

_Kindly fire your main violinist. The man could not be deafer. _

_For the sake of the production, find a new musician who could actually play in tune_."

.

"_Mister Andre,_

_The newest chorus member you hired needs to be sacked. _

_What's the use of having ears if you can't use them to distinguish between good singing and unbearable screeching?_"

.

"_Misters Firmin and Andre,_

_Just a reminder that my salary has not been paid. Kindly leave the money in my usual place in Box 5._

_P.S. No one likes debtors_."

.

"_Gentlemen,_

_You have been ignoring my letters, I can tell. To be frank, your decisions are a disaster._

_Nevertheless, I'm willing to give you a final chance. Put Ms. Daaé in the role of Countess and cast Carlotta as the Pageboy._

_If you ignore this final warning, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur._"

...

Everyone stayed silent as the two managers read the letters. Christine felt her cheeks turning red as soon as she heard her name mentioned in the final letter.

Carlotta stared at her accusingly and yelled, "It's probably her! She did this. She was trying to destroy the theater just because she wanted to be the star."

"What?!" Christine cried indignantly. "I would never want anything like this to happen! I had nothing to do with this!"

Raoul spoke up behind her. "I can vouch for Christine. She would never do anything so horrible. And she couldn't have had anything to do with this incident because she was with me the entire time yesterday."

Christine blushed, and she thought she heard some of the ballerinas snickering behind her back.

Madame Giry glared at the ballerinas, making them shut up. "I also stand behind Christine, sirs. I have known this girl for a long time. This incident was not her doing."

Carlotta huffed. "Well, who else could it be? I think we all saw how upset Christine was when she didn't get the lead role. Maybe she had an accomplice. _Maybe she's in cahoots with the theater ghost._"

Christine had never been a violent person but, at that moment, she really wanted to strangle Carlotta.

Thankfully, Mr. Andre spoke up. "Let's stop all of these accusations. We don't know what really happened and the matter is still under investigation. For now, all rehearsals will be done at the rehearsal studio while the theater is undergoing repairs. All castings remain the same. That is all."

Everyone started going about their way. Meg, Raoul, and Madame Giry tried to talk to Christine but she ran away from all of them.

There's only one person Christine wanted to talk to right now. Consequences be damned, she's going to give that ghost a piece of her mind.


	20. Confrontation

**Chapter 20: Confrontation**

Christine angrily made her way to the rehearsal studio. During the past month they shared, Erik finally trusted her enough to show her how to actually open the mirror in the rehearsal studio. He had shown her exactly which portion she had to touch and how much pressure to apply.

Now as she stood in front of the mirror, she hesitated. There was so much she wanted to say to Erik. Yet, she had never been good at confrontations and Erik was a master at deflecting her questions.

_I still have to try_, she resolved.

She made her way through the dimly lit subway tunnels and then to the underground lake where the gondola waited for her. Erik had been leaving that boat there for her so that she could come over any time she wanted. He had other passageways anyway, so he kept the rehearsal studio passageway just for her.

As she rowed the boat to his house, she could feel her resolve waning. She didn't want to fight with him… But no, she had to confront him. She doesn't want anyone else to get hurt just because of Erik's bad moods.

Using the key Erik had given her, she opened the front door of his house. There, she found him playing the piano in the living room, his back turned to her.

She knew that he heard her enter the room but he didn't turn around to look at her or greet her. _And so it begins_, she mused to herself.

Hesitantly, she moved closer to him, careful not to step on any of the crumpled music sheets that now littered the floors of his living room.

"Erik…" she started to say as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"What are you doing here, Christine?" Erik replied, his voice distant and emotionless. He did not stop playing nor did he turn around to look at her and she knew immediately that this conversation was not going to end well.

"We need to talk, Erik. It's about…"

He suddenly hit a sour note and turned around to face her. His expression was indiscernible behind that intimidating white mask.

"What do we need to talk about? Wouldn't you rather be with your lover, your date, than be here talking to me?" His voice was no longer completely devoid of emotion. Although he was still trying to keep his voice as steely as possible, Christine was able to detect a hint of bitterness and sadness in it.

But she was angry now. Any sort of guilt she felt for avoiding him yesterday has now been replaced with rage. "You were stalking me again, weren't you?! Good God, Erik. Look, I let it go the first time because I get it, okay? I've been jealous before. But this… this is not okay! You can't just keep following me everywhere I go all the time!"

Erik was standing now, glaring down at her with that creepy yellow eye of his. Christine tried her best not to back away or curl up into a ball on the floor.

"Please, Christine." He huffed, "You just don't want me to follow you because you've been going on dates with that _boy_."

She was more than mad now. She was furious. "How could you say that, Erik? How could you think that?! I was honest with you. I told you that Raoul was important to me. He was my childhood best friend and those feelings don't just go away. I told you that I wanted to be with _you_! …And don't change the subject! We were talking about _you_ stalking _me_!"

"If you wanted to be with him, you could have just been honest with me. You could've spared me all the heartache of waiting around for you yesterday!"

Christine felt a pang of guilt at his statement but she doubled down. "But you weren't waiting around for me yesterday! You were following me and Raoul around. Like the _fucking stalker_ you are!"

Erik's eyes blazed with rage and Christine quickly regretted her choice of words. He walked toward her in an almost predatory way and she promptly backed away.

"Everything I've done, I did for you, Christine." He was still advancing on her, like a lion walking toward a wounded gazelle.

Christine did not let herself get intimidated. "No. Don't pin this on me, Erik. Everything you've done, you did for yourself!"

Erik had cornered her now. She was standing with her back to a wall and he was glaring at her only a few inches away. He almost looked like he was about to raise his hand to smack her but he stopped himself. Instead, he started hitting the wall behind her. She yelped and moved her arms toward her face as if shielding herself.

But her elbow accidentally hit his face and caused his mask to slide off…

Both of them quickly glanced at the mask on the ground, shocked by this turn of events. Christine looked up at Erik… and she finally saw it.

She knew that he would be upset, so she tried to calm him down. "It's… it's not that bad…"

She lied. It was very, very bad.

* * *

**A/N: Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better...**


	21. Unmasked

**Chapter 21: Unmasked**

Christine already had a bit of an idea about what Erik looked like behind the mask. After all, they have slept together quite a few times. Even though she always wore a blindfold, Erik never bound her hands so she could freely move them around.

She would always attempt to touch the side of his face that he usually kept hidden from view. It felt rough and uneven like it was… unfinished. Whenever she touched him there, he would always wince. And she asked him if that side of his face still hurt.

"No. It's just… sensitive." He had said.

Her hands had also already touched his apparently bald head. She knew that he wore a wig and that he only had a few tufts of hair on his mostly smooth head.

She meant it when she said that she didn't care about what he looked like under the mask. But nothing had prepared her for the moment when she would actually see it.

Half of his face looked like it had melted. The skin there was rough yet paper-thin and almost transparent. She could see the veins in his head and could spot a rough outline of his skull. His eye was sunken into his skull and half of his nose looked like it had been chopped off.

He looked almost like a corpse. And she could finally see why his face was such a popular freak show attraction.

She tried very hard not to show Erik that she found his face _unpleasant_. But she knew that her facial expression wasn't very convincing. "It's… it's not that bad…" she tried to say.

But she wasn't the most convincing actress and Erik saw through the act immediately. He quickly held his hand up to the deformed side of his face. The look in his eyes held all the sadness and hurt in the world.

Christine wanted to reach out to him and comfort him. But before she could get any closer, he lashed out at her.

"DAMN YOU!" he cursed as he smacked the books that were laying on his coffee table. "Fuck you, Christine! Are you happy now, huh?! Is this what you wanted to see? Well then, LOOK AT IT!" he yelled as he turned toward her and removed his hand from his face.

If she wasn't frightened before, then she was definitely frightened now. His rage seemed to follow her everywhere around the room. She stumbled back and gracelessly fell to the floor, shivering.

The scared expression on her face only seemed to make him angrier. "Oh, you don't like looking at it?! Well, I told you. I FUCKING TOLD YOU. Did you listen to me? NO!" He yelled as he pushed his bookshelf to the ground and stomped on his precious collections.

Christine didn't know what to do. She seemed frozen to the floor. With all the strength she could muster, she ran off and decided to lock herself in the bedroom.

She didn't know why she didn't either stay there and try to calm him down or run out of the house. But she couldn't think clearly right now. So, she huddled onto the bed like a child frightened of lightning. She hid under the blankets as if her life depended on it and tried to close her eyes to sleep.

Outside the room, she could still hear Erik screaming and smashing things. She could clearly hear him cursing her, calling her a prying Pandora and a lying Delilah.

She didn't know what to do. So, she did the only thing she _could_ do.

Hidden underneath the warmth and safety of a blanket, she tried to drown out all other sounds she could hear by singing. She sang softly and quietly, remembering the song her father used to hum to her whenever she was frightened.

Soon, her singing got louder and louder. She was enraptured in the memory of her father and she couldn't hear any other noises anymore. She couldn't help but cry at the fact that her father was still protecting her even now that he's gone.

As soon as the song was finished, she realized that the reason why she couldn't hear anything except her singing was that no other sound was coming from outside the room. It seems that Erik was already done with his horrific temper tantrum.

She slowly removed the blanket and looked toward the door. She could see the light coming in from the living room through the spaces in the doorway. From the space underneath the door, she could see a shadow standing still outside the room.

Has he been listening to her the entire time? She didn't want to know right now.

She tucked herself back in bed, willing herself to fall asleep.

But she couldn't. And she knew that this disastrous confrontation was not over yet.

* * *

**A/N: Hi everyone, I know that things are looking really sad for Christine and Erik right now so I'm sending you all an online hug. XD**

**We'll be seeing Erik's thoughts on the next chapter so strap on and prepare for a bit more angst haha. But thank you for sticking around and for the lovely reviews. Hope you enjoy the story! :)**


	22. The Monster and the Man

**Chapter 22: The Monster and the Man**

If it were up to Erik, Christine would never, ever have to see his face. He loved her so much. It was the only thing he was sure of. He loved her more than anything in the world—more than the various beautiful buildings he had designed, more than the musical compositions he held so dear, more than his many inventions, more than even his own self.

He knew that if he were given a choice between saving himself and saving Christine, he wouldn't hesitate. He would save her in a heartbeat even if it meant his demise.

After all, he believed that Christine had so much to offer the world. And he… well, nobody would miss him when he's gone.

For years, he was alone, merely surviving but never really living. But when he met her, he finally felt like he had something to live for.

All his life, people hated and feared him for his face. And somehow, he knew that Christine wouldn't be immune to the feelings of shock and horror that his face seemed to stir in people. She's only human after all.

But nothing could've prepared him for the look she gave him when his mask fell off. She didn't look horrified, exactly… But she was trying to hide whatever she was feeling. She looked like those women in horror movies who were locked inside a room with a killer but couldn't scream or else the monster would find them.

"It's… it's not that bad…" she had said. But Erik knew it was a lie. His Christine was a very talented singer and she was a pretty good dancer now. But she still had to work on her acting skills.

Suddenly, Erik felt like his world was crumbling around him. Christine was all he had. She was the only one he's ever loved. And now she's scared of him too.

He couldn't stop himself. He snapped at her, yelling at her, cursing her, and destroying the things around him. If he were honest with himself, he didn't even know what he was saying anymore. He was blinded by hurt and rage.

When Christine stumbled onto the floor looking horrified, the anger in him intensified. He knew then and there that he had lost her. She couldn't see the man anymore, only the monster.

His heart was breaking into a million pieces and all he could do was break his bookshelf and stomp on the books he had so lovingly collected. Christine ran to the bedroom and locked herself there, and Erik started wailing like the lost little boy he once was.

...

Erik still remembers the first time he ever saw his face. It was his fifth birthday and before that time, his mother had forbidden him from going into her room and looking at the mirror she hid there.

His mother was in the kitchen, baking a cake for him. He didn't understand the concept of "birthdays" because they had never celebrated the occasion before. He knew that the only reason her mother wanted to celebrate this year was that her friend had guilted her into doing it.

"Madeleine, he's just a little boy! Of course, he needs to know when his birthday is. He needs to celebrate his birthday like every other little boy!" Ms. Marie, his mother's friend, had said.

Still, Erik was pretty excited about having a birthday. He wanted to be like every other little boy. Well, he knew that other boys got to play outside, while he had to stay locked in his house. And other boys didn't have to wear a mask, while his mother would yell at him whenever he even attempted to take it off.

"Mama," he whispered as he walked into the kitchen where his mother was.

His mother did not look at him. She was busy stirring the batter in the bowl.

"Mama, since it's my birthday… I was wondering…" He continued. "Mama?"

"I'm busy, Erik! What is it?!" His mother snapped.

He quickly backed off and started making his way out of the kitchen. The expression on his mother's face softened when she saw him. "What is it, Erik?" she said, softer in tone this time.

He hesitated. "Ms. Marie said that, since it's my birthday, I can get a gift…"

"Yes, Erik." His mother sighed. "What would you like for your birthday?"

Suddenly, Erik lost his confidence. He's never asked his mother for this before and he was afraid that she would say "no." He kept quiet, not wanting to look into his mother's eyes.

"Erik, I don't have all day. I have a lot of preparations to make. What do you want?"

He swallowed his pride and looked into his mother's eyes. "Mama, can I have a kiss?" he said meekly as he pointed to his cheek. "Or two kisses, please? One for my birthday, and another one to save."

He will never forget the look on his mother's face. It was clear horror and disgust. "No. Ask for something else."

Erik was angry now. "But why not? Mamas kiss their little boys all the time. I've seen it!"

"Well, you're not like other little boys." His mother stated coldly.

"Yes, I am. YES, I AM!" He was throwing a tantrum now. He was smacking the kitchen appliances and throwing them on the floor.

"No, you're not. And it's finally time for you to realize it. Stop that right now!" His mother angrily set the batter on the table and dragged him upstairs into her room.

Erik thought that she was going to spank him for throwing a tantrum.

Instead, she held him in front of a mirror that was covered by a large piece of cloth. She took the cloth away, took his mask off, and let him stare at his reflection.

He was terrified of this monster that stood in front of him. Every time he moved, the monster seemed to move as well. It was following him!

So, little Erik did the only thing he could to make the monster go away. He started smashing the mirror to pieces, much to his mother's horror. He screamed and kicked and smashed until his little hands were covered in glass shards and blood.

That was the last time he ever celebrated his birthday.

...

Now that Christine had seen his face, he knew that it was over between them. Whenever they were alone together, he could almost pretend that he was just an ordinary man who was in love with a woman. But now, he had to face reality.

He can hear Christine crying inside his bedroom. And he felt his heart shattering to pieces.

Before he could stop himself, he went into the one room in his house that he always kept locked, the one beside his bedroom. Pausing by the doorway, he stared at the mirror he kept there.

He hasn't looked at his unmasked face in such a long time. There were plenty of things that Erik hated but he knew that his face was at the very top of that long list.

Christine might think that he only hated the deformed side of his face, but he hated it in its entirety. He hated how asymmetrical it was.

If he had a fully normal face, he could be like everyone else. He could walk around in the sunshine and not worry about getting stared at. If he had a fully deformed face, he could more easily embrace his wickedness. He knew that darkness existed and thrived in him. He understood the gravity of his terrible acts.

But he had a face that held both man and monster. He was both handsome and ugly, loving and threatening, gentleman and predator. Angel and Phantom.

How could Christine love him when he couldn't even love himself?


	23. Safe and Secure

**Chapter 23: Safe and Secure**

Erik's thoughts of anger and self-loathing were interrupted by a sweet, tender melody. He turned toward his bedroom and heard Christine singing softly. Even when he's in a dark place, her voice always seems to calm him down.

As if by instinct, he walked toward the area where his mask had fallen to the floor. He grabbed it and covered his face. Putting his mask back on allowed whatever negative feelings he had to subside.

Slowly, Erik followed Christine's voice. He stood in front of the bedroom door, listening to her beautiful singing. At first, her voice was only a whisper. But as she went on, she had gained more and more confidence. Her song was now enveloping his entire house, wrapping him in a warm cocoon.

For the first time in a long while, Erik felt safe and secure. He just stood there silently, letting her voice warm his soul.

Then, the anger and sadness he felt quickly turned to shame when he realized that he had made his beloved Christine cry tonight.

After her song was finished, Erik didn't know what to do. He wanted to hold her so badly, wanted to take her into his arms, kiss her, and apologize profusely. Instead, he stood there like a statue, wondering whether he should stay away and let her rest or to attempt to clear the air between them.

...

Christine observed the shadow that seemed to be standing still from behind the door. Singing had helped to calm her down and she wasn't feeling afraid anymore. But she still dreaded what was to come.

After what seemed to be a very long period of silence, she heard his voice—the voice of her Angel. "Christine?"

She didn't say a word. _Maybe I can pretend to be asleep_, she thought. _Maybe he'll go away if I just don't respond_.

Erik's shadow seemed to move closer to the bedroom door. "Christine, my dear, I'm sorry… I should've… I should've tried harder to keep my mask on. I never wanted you to see that, and I know I've frightened you so badly." His voice sounded so sad and remorseful. It melted her heart.

He continued, "I understand if you never want to see this wretched monster again. Please try and fall asleep, Christine. After you've gone to bed, I'll take you back to your dormitory. You'll never have to look at me again, my sweet."

Christine stayed silent and she saw his shadow slowly moving away from the door. She couldn't help herself. She couldn't let him leave thinking that she was frightened of his face. "Erik… wait."

The shadow stopped moving. Christine got out of the bed and walked toward the door. "Let's talk. Please."

She unlocked the door and opened it, gesturing for him to enter. Erik stilled for a minute, his body tense and his expression indiscernible. But soon, he slowly made his way inside the room.

Christine sat on the edge of the bed and motioned for Erik to sit next to her. He was careful not to sit too close to her.

"Erik, I'm not frightened of your face." She said as she took a deep breath.

He seemed to open his mouth to respond but Christine cut him off. "Just let me talk first, Erik. Please."

He stilled and she continued, "Okay, I'm not going to pretend that I wasn't… _surprised_ by your face. But I truly wasn't afraid of it. Erik, your temper was what really scared me. I never thought I would ever feel unsafe around you but your anger was so intense. I… I just felt like you were going to hurt me."

Erik seemed shocked by what she said. "Christine, I would never—I could _never_. You have to believe me. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I ever harmed even a single strand of hair on your head."

She believed him. His words seemed sincere but she still vividly remembers the way he violently hit the wall behind her and the way he destroyed the objects in his living room.

"Erik, when you were just my Angel, I already thought of you as a close friend. You know that I don't open up easily to people. But with you, I felt like I could just be myself. I could tell you about the things that were on my mind and the feelings I wouldn't be comfortable sharing with anyone else. And then, when I finally saw you, well," she blushed a bit, "I felt a much deeper, more intense connection between us… But I'm afraid that I'm still having trouble trusting you."

He turned away, seeming to think deeply about her words. She continued, "I want to trust you, Erik. I really do. But it's hard because you're not letting me in. Every time I want to get to know you more, you always seem to close off."

She moved closer to him and placed her hands on his. "Do you trust me, Erik?"

"Yes." He answered softly. "How could I not trust my sweet, dear Christine?"

"Then why do you follow me around? And why do you insist on threatening the managers for the sake of my career? I feel like you don't trust me. You didn't believe me when I told you that I wanted to be with _you_ and not Raoul. You didn't trust that I could get the lead role in the show on my own…"

He looked her straight in the eyes, cutting off her train of thought. "I trust you, Christine. I trust you very much. It's everyone else that I don't trust. Especially not those bumbling idiots who are running my theater. And definitely not that _boy_."

"Erik, I want things to work out between us. But to make that happen, we need to trust each other. You have to promise to stop with the stalking."

He seemed hesitant but he nodded slowly. She continued, "And can you also stop blackmailing people… and," _dropping stage lights on them_. "And no more hurting people even if you think they deserved it."

When Erik did not respond to her pleas, she sighed, "I mean it, Erik. You have to promise. No more blackmailing and hurting people."

Erik blinked, "If it's what you want, my dear… I'm willing to do anything for you."

Christine was unconvinced. "That's sweet, Erik. But you're allowed to voice your opinions and concerns. If you don't agree with what I'm asking of you, you should say so. We are not going to work this out if we aren't completely honest with each other."

Erik was still and silent. She held her breath, thinking that he was just going to outright refuse. After all, she was aware that he had been living alone for a long time.

This was the life he had chosen to live. He had chosen to cut himself off from the rest of the world, only being active when one or more of his creations is threatened.

Would he be open to making any changes at all?

* * *

**A/N: I just want to let all of you know that your reviews are giving me life! Haha. Thank you for continuing to read, everyone! :)**


	24. Negotiations

**Chapter 24: Negotiations**

After Christine had made him promise to change his behavior, Erik stayed silent for what seemed like a long time. She really wanted to work things out. Although she has never said the words out loud, she felt a deep love in her heart for him. But if he couldn't change his ways, if he couldn't stop his harmful behavior toward himself and others, well, she knew that she'll have to walk away.

To her relief, he sighed and finally responded to her, "Well, I do have a concern or two."

"Okay, that's good." Christine grinned, delighted that he was at the very least willing to _talk_ about making changes. "What are they?"

"Regarding the blackmailing, well, you see, it's how I make a living. It's not something I can just do away with. I may seem like a ghost but I do have bills to pay and I need food on the table."

"Can't you just talk to the managers instead of threatening them behind the walls? I mean, your compositions are world-famous. Surely, they'd be open to hearing your feedback and ideas if they knew that you were the composer. Just speak to them as Erik Lowell, not as the theater ghost. Get them to hire you as a consultant for the show. This way, you get your salary _and_ you can help make necessary improvements to the production which you so clearly want."

He turned away from her. "It's not that simple, Christine."

"It _can_ be simple, Erik. No more of this theater ghost business."

Erik sneered. "You don't understand what you're saying. You don't know what it's like to live with _this face_. I've experienced every possible hardship you can imagine. People can't respect or love a man with a face like mine… but they can learn to fear a phantom."

Christine tried to hold his hand but he clenched his fists on his lap. "You're right, Erik. I'll never understand what it's like to have a face that people fear. But here's where you're wrong: You're not a phantom. You're just a man, and men aren't meant to live so alone. You can't keep avoiding people forever."

He scoffed, "I did fine living as a ghost for years."

"And were you happy then?" She asked softly.

Erik didn't say a word but she could see the sadness in his eyes. Those eyes were what made her want to stay and work things out with him. She never would've imagined herself staying with a man who had such a terrible temper and a compulsive need to control everything around him. But when she looked into his eyes, she saw it—his tenderness, his vulnerability, his humanity.

She knew that it was not her responsibility to help him nor could she force him to change. But maybe she could help him help himself. All his life, he had been shunned. Maybe kindness… and love could make a difference.

Christine placed her arms around his waist. "Don't lie to me and tell me that you were content just staring at me behind a mirror. If you were truly a ghost, you never would've shown yourself to me. You never would've held my hand, hugged me, kissed me…" she gave him a mischievous little smile, "You never would've had sex me."

His face turned red. Christine gave him a swift kiss on his uncovered cheek. "I know it seems like a huge change but it could be good for you. Just think about it. Please."

The expression on his face was unreadable. Christine sighed. _This was going to be much harder than she expected_. "Let's revisit that idea some other time. Do you have any other concerns?"

He was still quiet. His body was not as tense as it was earlier but she could somehow tell that he was at war with his own mind.

Although she wasn't fully aware of his past, only really knowing the few bits and pieces that he had hesitantly shared with her, she knew that he had a hard life. It was going to take a lot to get him to change his ways, to get him to stop seeing the world as his enemy.

To her delight, he spoke up, "Yes, I have a concern about 'not hurting people.' I know you don't like violence, my dear. But sometimes it is necessary… I know this from experience. Many have tried to harm and kill me. I can't promise you that I won't fight back."

"Did Joseph Buquet try to hurt you? Is that why you dropped those stage lights on him?"

"Not exactly… He had come very close to discovering my secret passageway in the theater and I very much wanted to get rid of him. But that's not why I did that."

"Then why?"

"He was harassing this one ballerina. The poor girl was scared of him. I think he intended to… _assault_ her. I wasn't trying to kill him. Just maim him so that the poor girl can escape and he wouldn't be able to follow."

Christine breathed a sigh of relief at his confession. She still wasn't on board with dropping stage lights on people, but understanding the motivation behind it at least made the act more justified in her mind. "I understand, Erik. I won't hold it against you if you defended yourself against someone who was trying to hurt you or if you were trying to defend someone else. But I still draw the line at unnecessary violence."

Erik nodded. She wasn't sure if he was doing so because he agreed or because he just wanted to make her think that he agreed. But it was a good start. At least, now, she's made her disapproval clear to him.

To her surprise, he took her hand and gave it a quick kiss. "Those are all the concerns I have so far. Tell me about the other ideas you have." Her heart fluttered.

_This is going to be challenging, _she thought to herself,_ but maybe it could be worth it_.

"Just three more ideas, really." She blushed a bit. Her next few proposals would seem silly considering the fact that they had just discussed stalking, blackmail, and violence. "I think we should go on dates outside your house from time to time. Is twice a week okay with you?"

A small smile formed on his lips. "Done. What else?"

She couldn't help but smile at how quickly he agreed to that. Getting him out of the comforts of his underground house and secret passages could help him work on his fear of people. Even if he was just doing it to spend time with her.

Then, she bit her lip. She wasn't sure if he would like her next idea. "This may sound like a terrible idea at first but you have to hear me out."

She took his hand, letting her fingers entwine with his. "I think we should stop talking about music and what's going on in the theater after our singing lessons."

He glanced at her with a bewildered expression. She understood his shock. After all, music and theater—these were what connected them, their shared passions. _What else would they even talk about when they were alone together?_

"I know what you're thinking." she continued, "It _does_ sound a bit insane. But I think it could be good for us to get to know each other apart from music and theater. I want to know what we're like together not just as a maestro and his student or as an Angel and his muse. I want to know what we're like as just Erik and Christine if that makes any sense."

Erik seemed uneasy so she tried to reassure him. "I'm not saying that we have to avoid music altogether. That would be pretty unbearable for both of us." She chuckled, "I love our music… I only want us to try to keep work and play a bit more separate if you know what I mean."

He nodded, seeming to understand her point.

Christine continued, "As for my other idea… Well, as I said, I want to learn more about you. So… maybe you could tell me something about yourself every day. Just one little fact—it can be anything at all. And to be fair, you can ask me something too."

Erik grinned at her. "What do you want to know?"

She thought about it. She doesn't want to ask anything too personal yet since they already had a pretty drama-filled and tense day. "Do you like animals? Have you ever had any pets?"

Erik gave her a serious look. "I'm quite fond of them. Animals will never judge you just because of your face."

He paused and Christine wondered whether she had asked the right questions. But then he chuckled and continued talking, "As for your other question, yes. When I was a boy, I had a dog named Sasha. She was my best friend. Well, she was my _only _friend…" He smiled softly, "I haven't had any animal companions in a while although I've always wanted a cat. They're such majestic creatures."

Christine smiled widely. Definitely the right question choice. She started forming a list in her mind.

_Things Erik Likes:_

_\+ Music_

_\+ Architecture_

_\+ Magic_

_\+ Books_

_\+ Dogs and Cats!_

"Christine," he interrupted her thoughts, "may I ask you my question now?" He was looking down sheepishly like he was waiting to be reprimanded.

His uncharacteristic nervousness worried her but she nodded. "Sure, Erik."

"When you were talking to the boy, you called me your… boyfriend." Erik's face flushed. And Christine finally understood what he was going to ask. She couldn't hide her amused smile.

"My question is… does this mean that you're my… _my_ _girlfriend_?"

That last word sounded so foreign on his tongue, and Christine couldn't stop herself from giggling. "Yes, Erik. That's how relationships work."

Erik looked at her with bewilderment and deep admiration. She laughed and embraced him quickly.

For the first time since they've stood face to face, Erik let himself be the one to initiate a kiss. He lay her back on the bed, gently placed himself on top of her, and planted loving kisses on her entire face. Whispering in her ear, he said, "I've never had a _girlfriend_ before."

Laughing softly, Christine pulled his body closer to hers. "Well, now you do."


	25. Getting to Know You

**A/N: To make up for the non-stop angst of the last few updates, please enjoy this unashamedly fluffy chapter. XD **

* * *

**Chapter 25: Getting to Know You**

After Christine's eventful confrontation with Erik, the next few months she spent with him were pure bliss. She wondered whether this was what love experts would call "the honeymoon phase" of their relationship. Things seemed a lot more open between them after she had finally told him about what was on her mind.

Much like they had agreed, Erik would accompany her outdoors twice a week. He still wasn't all that comfortable around people, and Christine made sure to take him to places that she knew weren't too crowded.

One time, she asked Erik to pick their activity for the day. After a brief period of silence, he asked her if she wanted to go to Central Park Zoo. She was amused and surprised by his choice. But he did tell her once that he was fond of animals so she didn't think too much about his unusual date idea.

However, Christine began noticing a pattern. The next time she asked Erik to pick their outside date activity, he mentioned going to Coney Island together. While she wasn't against the idea, she did realize why Erik wanted to go there with her.

She remembered that when she first went on a walk with Raoul, Erik immediately asked to take her on a walk that same day. Raoul had taken her to a zoo, an amusement park, and an arcade when they hung out together that one time…

_Was Erik taking his romantic cues from Raoul_?! She giggled a bit at the thought but decided to let it go and just enjoy their day together.

The third time she asked Erik to pick, her suspicions were confirmed. Erik asked her if she was interested in going to an arcade. She laughed and said, "Erik, you know that dates are about doing activities together that we both want to do, right?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure what you're implying… If you're interested in going to an arcade, then I'd happily take you."

Christine held his hand and smiled knowingly at him. "Well, arcades are fun and all. But they're more of Raoul's thing. You two are very different people, so I don't know why you think I wouldn't notice that you're reusing his date ideas."

Erik turned away, his neck turning red. He couldn't look her in the eye. The truth is, he _was_ trying to be more like the boy since he thinks that it's what she wants.

Why would she want him? He really couldn't think of a reason why Christine wanted to spend time with him, even if she _did_ let him call her his girlfriend. So, he thought that the least he could do was make their time together as pleasant as possible for her.

She noticed the way his eyes looked to be deep in thought so she moved closer to him. "Erik, if I wanted to be with Raoul, don't you think I'd be with him by now?"

He didn't respond and she pursed her lips. "You still don't believe me, do you? I want to be with _you_, Erik. _You're_ my boyfriend, and I want to spend the day doing something that interests _you_."

A small smile appeared on Erik's lips. He still seemed unconvinced by her words but he was at least touched by them. "Would you like to see a movie with me, Christine?"

She nodded happily. Silently, she hoped that Erik was starting to realize that he didn't have to be anyone except himself around her.

...

In addition to their dates, Christine and Erik also continued the practice of not talking about what's going on at the theater after their music lessons. This was pretty difficult to do at first because they were both used to ranting about Carlotta's diva tantrums during rehearsals or how that one violinist keeps messing up his cues all the time.

But they had both agreed that keeping their professional and personal lives a bit more separate was for the best. And Christine was happy that she brought that proposal up because it had led to more interesting conversations between them.

Even when Erik was only her Angel of Music, she already knew that he was smart. But apparently, she had vastly underestimated his intellect. The man was a genius and a scholar!

Erik seemed to know almost everything under the sun. It intimidated her a bit. She learned that he knew how to speak multiple languages, that he enjoyed tinkering with mechanical devices and making something new out of them, that he had read hundreds of books, and that he memorized facts about seemingly niche subjects like hydroponics.

He was like her own personal Google. If she asked him about a topic that she wanted to learn more about, he would give her a summary of the subject. Then, he'd lend her some books from his collection—the ones that he didn't destroy during his last tantrum, at least—and make recommendations about which chapters to read and which to skip, based on what question she initially asked.

Christine hated to admit it, but she felt dumb around him. Although she's never been incredibly academically gifted, she liked to think of herself as fairly intelligent. But talking to Erik made her realize just how little she actually knew.

One night, Erik tried to explain basic architectural concepts to her. She must have let her confusion show in her face because he quickly stopped speaking and looked at her with concern. "My dear, are you alright? Are my explanations getting too complex?"

She gritted her teeth. _Great_, she thought to herself. _Even he thinks I'm too dumb to understand things_. "I'm fine, Erik. I'll get it eventually. I'm not as stupid as you think, you know."

Erik looked alarmed at her statement. "You are far from stupid, Christine. And you know I don't think of you as such."

"Really?" she said in a quiet voice.

Erik took her by the hand and glanced at her with a knowing smile. "My dear, you've known me for a long while now. Do you think I would waste my time trying to teach an idiot? You are the most intelligent woman I've ever had the privilege of conversing with."

She blushed and smiled at his words. But then she realized something and her smile faded. "Erik… I'm the _only_ woman you talk to."

Erik laughed out loud, and Christine couldn't help but laugh along with him. _She loved him so much_.

...

During the past months together, Christine had learned so much about Erik from their dates and their lessons. But she still enjoyed getting to ask him her daily questions.

She started with silly, simple questions like his favorite color (it was black, obviously), his hobbies as a kid (apparently, he had a penchant for ventriloquism), his favorite kind of music (classical, but he begrudgingly admitted that he has a soft spot for Beyoncé).

But then, she decided to take a risk and ask him more personal questions. "Erik, you mentioned that you were doing contracting work in New York before. I guess I'm just wondering… why did you decide to stop?"

He looked far away as if he were trying to remember a distant memory. "I was just tired... Tired of dealing with people, tired of getting stared and sneered at, tired of hearing whatever rumors they were making up about why I wore a mask, tired of just everything really. I wanted to be left alone. So… I invented a job where I didn't have to show myself to anyone, as you know."

Christine nodded. She didn't approve of whatever shenanigans he was up to as the phantom. But she understood that life has been unkind to him and that certain circumstances have probably pushed him to become the lonely, isolated man she knew. He created this ghostly persona so that he could have some semblance of control over his life.

Sometimes, she wondered what Erik would've been like if he had a normal upbringing. He was already so warm, sweet, and loving toward her. She liked to imagine that if he had grown up with a family who loved him, nurtured his talents, and didn't shun him because of his face, perhaps he wouldn't be so withdrawn and afraid of other people.

She appreciated that they had gotten to that point in their relationship where he rarely deflected her questions and even willingly opened up about himself without too much prodding.

Erik spoke up, interrupting her thoughts. "May I ask _you_ my question now, Christine?"

"Of course, Erik."

He looked at her sheepishly, as though he wasn't sure about how she would react to what he was about to ask. "Christine… is it good for you… when we… when we sleep together?" He couldn't look her in the eye as he asked this, and Christine wanted to tease him a bit.

"I don't know what you're asking me, Erik." She lied. She knew that he was looking for validation of his bedroom skills but she kind of enjoyed seeing the flustered, shy look on his face.

He cleared his throat, his face completely red. "What I mean is… I wanted to know if I… if I perform satisfactorily for you?"

He paused. He didn't know why he wanted to know this so badly, but he loved being with her and he wanted to make sure that she enjoyed his company as much as he did hers.

"Christine, I didn't have prior experience with… with intimacy. I only wanted to know if… you enjoy yourself with me. Because if you don't, we don't have to do anything like it anymore. You don't have to feel pity for me. I can be happy just being around you."

She was done teasing now. She could tell that this was a serious matter for him. He wasn't fishing for compliments; he genuinely can't tell how attracted she is to him.

"Erik, of course, I enjoy having sex with you. I love being intimate with you in that way." Her cheeks flushed as she talked.

He smiled sweetly at her. But she wasn't done talking about the subject yet. "By the way, you didn't tell me that you hadn't slept with anyone before. If I knew, I would've tried to make our first time more special! I could've been gentler with you at least."

Erik's face turned so red that Christine thought it would burst into flames. "No, no! It was perfect, Christine. I couldn't have imagined a more perfect night."

...

Yes, these past few months have been blissful for Christine. Not just because she was getting to know Erik on a deeper level, but also because rehearsals have been going well.

It seems like the managers listened to all of the Phantom's commands except for one. They did fire the violinist who never seemed to stay in tune and the chorus member who made Christine's ears bleed. They placed the theater ghost's salary in a briefcase which they left in Box 5. But they still haven't changed any of the castings.

Despite her initial disappointment at not being the lead, Christine was enjoying playing the role of The Pageboy. She got to train her acting skills a lot more. Since the role was silent, she had to learn to become more mindful of her facial expressions and body language. It was a lot like dancing and Christine has grown to love ballet.

Another thing she was grateful for: No reported phantom sightings since the Buquet incident. Before she knew Erik was the phantom, she would always hear gossip about mysteriously destroyed props or cast members that were scared off the show. Now, everything seemed peaceful… as far as she knew, at least.

Maybe she _was_ making a difference in his life. It was a wonderful thought. But was it a realistic one? She never could tell.


	26. Warm, Unspoken Secrets

**Chapter 26: Warm, Unspoken Secrets**

For Erik, the past few months have been wonderful. He's never had a girlfriend before and, now, Christine came to see him all the time.

Although he still disliked being around people out in the open, he happily accompanied her on dates around the city. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Christine _did_ like doing activities that he picked out.

He was also glad that he agreed to quit talking about theater matters after their lessons. For the first time in a long while, he had someone to share his knowledge with. Christine wasn't as well-read as he was but she was open-minded and a good listener. His heart always fluttered whenever she turned to him for help with a subject she wanted to learn about. _He loved her so much_.

Although he was still hesitant to talk about his past, he understood her curiosity. So, he tried to share enough of his history with her—at least the parts that didn't bring up so much rage and anguish in him.

Christine never pushed him too hard to answer when she could tell that he was extremely uncomfortable. And he's grateful for that.

Still, despite their now more open and warm relationship, Erik and Christine kept quite a few secrets from each other. There were still so many things they had left unspoken.

For instance, Christine hasn't told Erik that she ate a whole box of chocolates the other day. He had gifted them to her, of course, but he told her not to eat too much in one sitting because she needed to take good care of her vocal cords even when she's not playing the lead.

Still, Christine couldn't help it. She scarfed down the contents of the box within one sitting. During their lessons that night, Erik did notice that she seemed to clear her throat more than usual.

He looked at her disapprovingly and asked if she finished the entire box of chocolates on her own. Not wanting to be reprimanded, she lied and said that Meg and her other roommates ate it all. He seemed to believe her. To this day, she still hasn't told him the truth.

Of course, Erik had secrets of his own. Christine had recently introduced him to Netflix and they began binge-watching a show together. Even though Erik would like to finish the entire show in one sitting with Christine, she had to go to the rehearsal studio for work. She made him promise not to watch the next episode without her.

But Erik couldn't help it. He had to know what happened next. So, he played the next episode. One thing led to another, and before he could stop himself, he ended up binge-watching the rest of the show while she was rehearsing with the cast and crew of _The Countess and the Pageboy_.

When Christine came home that night, he felt so guilty about breaking his promise. As they watched the episode together, he had to resist discussing future plot details with her. To this day, he still hasn't told her the truth.

Yes, Erik and Christine kept secrets from each other. Some were silly little secrets that neither of them _had_ to know… but others were a lot more serious.

Christine hasn't told Erik that she was still seeing Raoul. She had convinced herself that she was only going out with him as friends, but even she knew that she still felt _something_ for him.

She saw Raoul regularly. He would come over to her dormitory and ask her to go bowling or ice skating with him. And she'd happily go with him.

Nothing romantic would happen between them aside from the occasional sweet glances Raoul would throw her way and the brief yet meaningful touches he gave her. She would try to subtly remind him that she had a boyfriend… but she wouldn't rebuff his affections.

She didn't know how to reject his romantic advances in a way that wouldn't break his heart too much or make him want to stop being friends. Raoul was important to her, and she didn't want him to leave. She knew that this was one secret that Erik wouldn't forgive quite so easily.

Erik hasn't told Christine that he hasn't stopped being the phantom. He knew that she wouldn't approve but he's been playing the role of a theater ghost for so long. Old habits die hard, after all.

This time, though, he had to be a lot sneakier. He didn't want to cause any commotions that would alert Christine to his activities. Thankfully, it wasn't too difficult. After all, he knew everyone who worked in the theater. He knew which ones were likely to spread gossip and which ones were likely to keep to themselves.

He knew that the managers were frightened of the theater ghost. That was the reason why they decided to obey his commands regarding his salary and the firing of the incompetent musician and chorus member. But he figured out why they haven't made Christine the lead in the show.

As he spied on the managers' discussions, he found out that they were initially going to cast Christine as The Countess. But apparently, Carlotta threw a diva fit and Piangi, wanting to keep his lover happy, bribed the managers into casting her. He offered them a generous sum of cash and they couldn't refuse. For this particular incident, their love of money outweighed their fear of ghosts.

Erik wanted to find a way to get her the role without arousing too much suspicion. He knew that this was one secret that Christine wouldn't forgive so easily.

Of all the many secrets Erik and Christine kept from each other, one weighed on them the most: Even now, they still haven't confessed what they truly felt for one another.

They both knew it. They both knew that their relationship had changed so much. What was once a mentorship had turned into a gentle friendship, which then transformed into a passionate sexual relationship, which then bloomed into actual love.

Both of them felt it, but neither could find the courage to say it out loud.

Christine knew that she had to tell him eventually. So, she resolved to finally tell him just how much she loved him. One day, she waltzed into his house. He greeted her as she walked in even though he seemed to be busy composing. She sat on the piano stool next to him, placed her arms around his waist, and kissed him passionately.

He looked at her with a surprised smile. "Well, hello to you too, my dear. May I ask what brought on this sudden burst of affection?"

"Do I really need a reason to want to hug and kiss my boyfriend?" she teased.

Still holding her in his arms, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I suppose not."

Christine tried to gather up all her courage. _This was it_. She needed to tell him. "Well, actually, there is… something I wanted to tell you…"

Erik was quiet, waiting for her to explain further. The intense way he gazed at her made her want to melt into a puddle. Her mouth suddenly couldn't form the words she wanted to say.

"I…" _I love you, Erik. Why can't I just say it?_ "I… I think I've finally made my decision about what you asked when you first took me to your house."

He looked at her inquisitively. "Do you mean… Are you saying what I _think_ you're saying?"

"Yes, Erik. Let's do it. Let's have a home together. I'm ready to move in with you." Christine beamed at him.

It wasn't exactly what she wanted to say, but it was a step closer. It was the right decision, wasn't it?


	27. Talking in Riddles

**Chapter 27: Talking in Riddles**

Meg tapped her foot anxiously. She was sitting alone at the Starbucks branch that she and Christine frequented, slowly sipping a cup of coffee and trying very hard not to look like someone who has just been abandoned by her best friend. Christine had promised that they would spend the weekend together.

"I know I've been a terrible friend lately. I've just been busy with rehearsals and with my singing lessons…" Christine had told her, guilt coloring her expression.

"And with your boyfriend who you spend all your free time with?" Meg interrupted.

Christine looked down sheepishly. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you. Let's hang out together this weekend. Just you and me!"

Meg was almost halfway done with her coffee and Christine was nowhere to be found. She sighed and took out her phone. "_Where the hell are you?_" she texted.

It didn't take too long for Christine to reply. "_Almost there, I swear!_"

Meg was getting antsy. She's been sitting there alone for half an hour and she felt like one of those women who had been set up on a blind date only to be ghosted. Meg understood what Christine was going through, she really did. She knew that Christine was under a lot of pressure at the theater and that she was also experiencing her first serious relationship. But still, it hurt to be shoved aside and ignored like this.

Finally, Christine showed up, running desperately toward her. "Meg, I'm so sorry I'm late. I was up all night and I just lost track of time…"

Meg eyed Christine who seemed to still be wearing the clothes that she wore before leaving work yesterday. "You know, Chris, you should probably leave some clean clothes at your boyfriend's place so that you won't have to do the Walk of Shame every single time you sleep over there."

Christine blushed as she sat down on the seat in front of Meg's. "Yeah… He told me that, too. He already reserved an entire closet for me and everything."

Meg laughed. "Wow. That's sweet of him. My last boyfriend wouldn't even let me leave a single clean shirt in one of his many drawers."

Christine smiled softly at her. "Erik's really thoughtful that way. I'm pretty lucky."

"And you know I'm happy for you, I truly am. But I do think we need to talk about all this…"

Christine kept quiet, and Meg tried to parse her words carefully. Meg had known Christine since they were teenagers because her mother and Christine's dad had worked together on different theater productions throughout the years. Even when Christine and her father would travel around, the two girls would stay in touch through emails and the occasional letters.

Meg thought of Christine as a sister and she felt responsible for her in a way. She knew that she had to protect Christine and help her guard her heart, especially since she rarely opened it up to anyone.

"Chris, listen… I know you really like this guy and I love how happy he makes you, but I just want you to be careful. I don't want you getting your heart broken. You've already been through a lot with your dad's passing and with everything that's going on in the theater… I just need to know that you're not rushing into things just because of grief and stress…"

Christine glanced at her with an anxious expression on her face. Her fingers were nervously fidgeting on the table. "Yeah, about that… there's something I should tell you."

"What?" Meg raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm… moving in with him."

"WHAT?"

"But I swear I'm not rushing into things! I've been considering it for a long time now and it just seemed like the logical next step for us…"

Meg looked at her incredulously. "Chris, you've been dating for what, like, four or five months? Look, you're an adult and you can do what you want. But this is your first actual grown-up relationship. Living together… that's a very serious next step. Are you sure about this?"

Christine took a deep breath. "Meg, I think… I think I love him. I wanted to say it to him yesterday but I couldn't… and I ended up telling him that I wanted to move in together. But now I don't know… I don't know how to do this whole relationship thing!"

Her eyes widened with panic. "Oh, God. I don't know what the hell I'm doing. What do I do? Tell me what to do, Meg!"

Meg held Christine's hands. "Okay, okay. Breathe, Chris. Breathe."

She handed Christine her water bottle. Drinking it seemed to calm Christine's nerves a bit, and Meg continued talking. "I can't give you the answers because I don't know much about him and I don't know what your relationship is like. I'm only… _concerned_, you know. You never dated anyone so seriously before and you told me that the only male you've loved aside from your father was your childhood sweetheart."

Christine shuddered a bit at the mention of Raoul. That was another complicated feeling she didn't want to talk about.

Meg continued, "What I'm saying is… Sometimes, even smart people do dumb things when it comes to love. So, maybe think this through before you move in with the guy, you know."

Christine was quiet for a while, seeming to be deep in thought. Then she looked at Meg with a wide, happy grin. "Meg, that's it! That's what I have to do!"

"What are you on about, Chris?"

"You said that you couldn't give me answers because you didn't know him. Well, I want you to get to know him, Meg. Then, you can tell me what to do."

Meg sighed in exasperation. "I can't make your relationship decisions for you, Chris."

Christine was still smiling. "I know. But I still want you to get to know him. Maybe once you meet him, maybe you'll understand… Could we have dinner together tomorrow? I'll bring Erik over to your mom's place."

"What? You want _mom_ to meet him, too?" Meg furrowed her brow.

Christine's wide smile turned serious. She looked deep into Meg's eyes, her expression held a mix of sadness and thankfulness. "Ever since papa died, you and Madame Giry are the closest I have to a family. You two have been taking such good care of me. And that's why I want you both to get to know Erik. He's important to me and I want _my family_ to meet him."

Meg's expression softened at Christine's plea. Of course, she couldn't say "no" to that.

...

Christine kept her promise to Meg and they spent the rest of their weekend together. After taking a quick shower and changing into clean clothes at their dorm, Christine took Meg to the mall. It was just like old times with them. They went shopping, ate a lot of junk food, and gossiped about some of their more annoying roommates.

Meg had missed spending time with Christine. For the past months, she had rarely been around. Now that Christine had an acting role in the play, they didn't get to hang out during rehearsals as much as they used to when they were both dancers.

And after rehearsals, Christine would always rush off to her singing lessons. Before she started dating her music teacher, she went home late but she always came back to their dorm where she and Meg could spend time together. But now, she almost always spent her nights with her boyfriend.

To make matters worse, Christine had always been reluctant to talk about her boyfriend. She seemed almost defensive whenever Meg asked her where he lived, what he did for a living, or even what he looked like. The fact that Christine panicked whenever she was asked these fairly simple questions worried Meg.

Christine talked about Erik in vague terms. _"He lives around the neighborhood."_

_"He writes music."_

_"He is attractive… in my eyes."_

Sometimes, Meg felt like Christine was talking in riddles. Christine had never been the most open book but she wasn't this secretive about the guys she's dated before. It was so unlike her.

_What could she possibly be hiding?_ Meg wondered as she and her mother prepared for the dinner that Christine had planned. Suddenly, she heard the doorbell ringing.

"I'll get it!" Meg said when she noticed her mother moving toward the doorway. She was finally going to meet Christine's mysterious tutor-slash-boyfriend. She wondered whether any of Christine's riddles were finally going to make sense once she saw him.

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**A/N: Thank you to everyone who is continuing to read this story! Your lovely reviews really make my day ^_^**


	28. The Dinner

**Chapter 28: The Dinner**

Before Meg opened the door, she tried to recall everything Christine had told her about Erik. _He's a composer. He's smart, witty, a perfect gentleman. He's sweet and thoughtful to me but I know that he might not be so open and caring toward others_, Christine had said.

As she gripped the door handle and moved to unlock it, her phone rang in her pocket. She glanced at it and read a text from Christine: "_Meg, before you see him, you should know… He wears a mask. Please try not to ask him about it_."

Now Meg was intrigued. She quickly opened the door and saw Christine smiling widely at her while holding a large container in her hands. Standing next to her was a man that Meg guessed was Erik.

Christine handed Meg the container and gave her a quick hug. "We brought chicken roulade. Where's Madame Giry?"

"She's still in the kitchen preparing some things."

"Oh," Christine smiled softly, "I'll go help her. Um…" she paused, suddenly remembering why she had come to the house in the first place. "Meg, I want you to meet Erik. Erik, this is Meg."

Meg looked toward Erik. Now that she was looking directly at him, she could kind of see what Christine saw in this guy. He was tall and lean, and he was a sharp dresser. Despite being fairly thin, he seemed to have strong arms and broad, masculine shoulders. There was a certain grace in his movements as he walked through the door.

She glanced at the elegant, sensual hands that were gripping Christine's arm. He was holding Christine as if he were afraid that she'd suddenly float in the air and he'd never be able to catch her. His eyes were a warm shade of brown and, despite wearing a flesh-colored mask that covered half of his face, he was good-looking. Meg can see it now. He wasn't her type, but she could see why Christine said that he was attractive.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Erik," Meg said as she moved to shake his hand.

Erik took Meg's hand and, to the surprise of both women, kissed it. "It's nice to meet you, as well. Thank you for welcoming me into your home."

Meg blushed. His voice was damn sexy. It was as smooth and rich as melted chocolate. And the way he kissed her hand… Meg could still feel little fireworks from his lips. She definitely saw it now. It's no longer a mystery to her why Christine was so enamored with this man. "Well, it's my mother's home, actually. Why don't you two take a seat in the living room while mom and I get the table ready?"

Christine chuckled when she sensed that Meg got flustered when Erik kissed her hand. "Meg, I'll go help Madame Giry. You and Erik could stay in the living room and get to know each other."

Erik seemed to glance at Christine with an uneasy expression in his eyes. Christine held his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "I'll be right back," she said with a smile.

...

When Meg and Erik first awkwardly sat in the living room together, Meg had no idea what to say to him. This was a first for her. She was always outgoing and opinionated, but Erik intimidated her a bit. He wasn't _trying_ to intimidate her… he just had that aura. Sitting next to him, Meg felt like a little kid who was waiting to be reprimanded by the school principal.

"So, Erik… Christine said that you're a composer?"

"Yes." He replied plainly.

"Cool."

"…"

"And you can play instruments?"

"Yes."

"Like what?"

"Piano, violin, guitar, cello, countless others."

"Cool."

There was a period of deafening silence. Meg racked her brain trying to come up with something else to say. "Are you… working on any new music then?"

Erik's eyes seemed to light up at the question. "I do have a project currently. I've been working on the score for a long time, but I've only now gotten the inspiration I needed to finish it."

"Ooh. What's it about?"

He replied somewhat hesitantly, "A man called Don Juan and his beloved Aminta."

Meg smiled. "Sounds romantic. I'm sure Christine would love what you've written for her."

A small grin appeared on Erik's face. He knew that the play he had written wasn't meant to be all that romantic. It was about a lothario who enjoyed all manner of earthly pleasures and sometimes did despicable things out of selfishness and lust. But he had an affinity with the character in the sense that they were both lonely men who longed for a distraction from the emptiness they felt.

He had been agonizing over this score for years, never really knowing how he wanted the play to end. He only found the inspiration he needed when he met Christine. Suddenly, it felt like there was a happy ending for Don Juan after all. And only Christine could make his music complete.

"I do hope she'll like it." He said with a soft smile.

...

Meg and Erik continued talking. The initial awkwardness between them was almost completely gone now. Erik asked her about what she did for a living, even though he already knew that she danced in the production. He just wanted to let her talk, and she did so happily.

Soon, Christine emerged from the kitchen to tell them that dinner was ready. They all moved to the dining room. There, Christine introduced Erik to Madame Giry. The older Giry seemed to regard Erik warmly but cautiously. Erik did the same.

Both Meg and Christine silently wondered whether the pair had met before. Neither Erik nor Madame Giry said a word but they seemed to be communicating with each other through only the expressions in their eyes.

The dinner went by smoother than any of them had expected. Meg was surprised to learn that she _did_ like Erik. He was clearly nervous, but he had a good head on his shoulders and he even surprised her with his wry sense of humor. Her mom seemed to warm up to Erik too. She was usually such a steely and serious woman. To Meg's surprise, a few of Erik's comments had made her mom smile.

After they finished eating, Christine moved to clean up the table and volunteered to wash the dishes. Erik promptly walked to her side to help but she waved a dismissive hand at him. "I can handle this, Erik. Just… stay here and talk with Meg and Madame Giry," she said with a smile.

"Actually," Madame Giry spoke up, "I'd like a word with you alone, Erik."

Erik stilled; his expression indiscernible. But he walked toward Madame Giry anyway, silently surrendering. The older Giry then turned toward her daughter. "Meg, go and help Christine with the dishes."

Meg and Christine gave each other a look. _What was that about?_ But they both hurried off to the kitchen sink and left Erik and Madame Giry alone in the living area.

...

"Sooo…" Christine turned to Meg as they washed the dishes together. "What do you think of him?"

"He seems like an asshole… _I like him_."

Christine's mouth opened in surprise. Meg could tell that she was getting defensive. "He's not an asshole! Well, he _is_ cranky and moody sometimes. And he has an awful temper. But I thought he was nice at dinner tonight. I thought you were getting along with him…"

"Well, yeah, Chris, I do like him. I meant it as a compliment!"

Christine scowled. "How was _that_ a compliment?"

"Wow, you really do love him, don't you?" Meg giggled. "All I meant was that I can tell he's no pushover, you know. And I think that's a good thing! He's the kind of guy who would call someone out on their shit without worrying too much about what the other person would think of him. He's not like those other guys you used to date, the ones who tried to be friends with everyone and would make excuses for other people's shitty behavior. If he thought that something was wrong, he'd call it out."

Christine was silent after that. She realized that Meg's assessment of Erik was pretty accurate. She did think Erik could be downright mean sometimes like in the scathing letters he sent to the managers.

But he was often right… She remembered when he was only her Angel of Music. During those early lessons, he would often provide necessary criticism delivered in careless ways.

_"Kindly _attempt_ to sing the correct notes, my dear. If I wanted to listen to screeching, I would go to the aviary."_

_"You're using too much vibrato, Christine. Do try not to sound like a bleating goat when you sing this part." _

If she made even the slightest mistake, he would have her start the song again until she could sing the entire thing perfectly. Some of his comments stung, but over time, she _did_ notice a remarkably fast improvement in her singing.

It's also good that, as he spent more time with her, he learned to curb some of his more acerbic remarks. In many ways, they both helped each other become better.

She smiled at Meg. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

"Of course, I am!" Meg exclaimed and Christine laughed softly.

Meg continued, "You know, I wonder what he and mom are talking about. I hope she doesn't completely scare him off. I had just started getting to know him!"


	29. A Silent Agreement

**Chapter 29: A Silent Agreement**

Before meeting Christine, Erik had made peace with the fact that he would spend his entire life alone. He tried not to feel bitter about it. Instead, he chose to focus on things he could control like his work, his music.

If he could cut himself off from humanity entirely, he would have done so. No one seemed to think of him as "human" anyway, so he didn't feel the need to act like one. Still, despite his mind's resolve to live as a ghost, his body always reminded him of his very basic, _very human_ needs.

To survive, he had to eat, to sleep, to exercise. Whenever his body craved release, he needed to touch himself. He did these things not because he particularly enjoyed them but because he simply _needed_ to.

Everything changed when Christine came along.

He didn't use to take much pleasure from eating, only really seeing it as a means of re-fueling his body. With Christine, he suddenly found himself enjoying food. They would often cook together in his kitchen and share meals.

He used to hate sleep, seeing it as an unproductive use of his time. Now, he longed for the night-time when he could lie beside his beloved Christine and feel her arms around him.

Exercise was no longer just a necessity. He enjoyed spending time with her, walking around the city, accompanying her during her early morning jogs, dancing with her at night.

Whenever he felt lust, he was surprised to find that Christine didn't mind helping him out in that area. No matter how many times they kissed or tumbled around in bed, Erik would always be amazed at the fact that she was not repulsed by his touch. In fact, she sometimes seemed to crave his body as much as he did hers.

To Erik, Christine truly was an angel. That was the reason why he couldn't say "no" to her.

He couldn't say "no" when she asked him to join her for dinner at the Giry's. Every single fiber of his being screamed when she first brought up the idea. But as Erik looked into her eyes, he couldn't deny her, couldn't bear to break her heart. Especially not when she told him that Madame Giry and Meg were the closest she had to a family.

So, he reluctantly agreed. Soon, they walked to Madame Giry's home, bringing along a dish they had cooked together. He wanted to turn around and run. He didn't want to spend any more time with other people, especially not Madame Giry. The last time he spoke with her, they had a silent agreement… He feared that she would take away the only good thing in his life. He feared that she would turn Christine against him.

There is a reason why he didn't have many friends, after all…

...

When Madame Giry first learned about Christine having a boyfriend, she smiled. She was happy for the girl because it seemed that she was finally back to normal. After Gustave Daaé died, Madame Giry felt that she owed it to her old friend to take care of his precious daughter. She felt responsible for Christine and wanted to make sure that she was doing well.

Meg was telling her about Christine's plan. "She wants us to have dinner here at your place, mom. She said that she wanted you to meet him, too."

Madame Giry gave her daughter a soft smile. "I don't mind. You know that I enjoy the company. It has been a while since you and Christine joined me for dinner."

Meg tried to mask the guilt she felt. "Yeah, mom. Sorry… I know we should come over more often."

She waved a dismissive hand at her daughter. "I know you're both still navigating the waters of adulthood. You don't need your mother around you every single hour of the day."

Meg laughed and hugged her mother. "True." She then looked down, "I'm worried about Christine, though. She wants to move in with the man already, but to be honest, her relationship seems kinda shady."

"Why? What has she told you about him?"

"That's the problem. She's barely told me anything about him! She's being super secretive. I only know that he gives her singing lessons and that he writes music."

Madame Giry tried to suppress her shock. Christine had told her that she had been receiving singing lessons. And though Christine was unaware of the fact, Madame Giry knew who was teaching her. But was it possible that her relationship with her voice coach was more… _intimate_ than she realized? "Erik…"

Meg glanced at her in surprise. "Wait, you know him? How?! Did Christine tell you about him? Why would she tell you and not me?!"

Madame Giry tried to compose herself. She stayed quiet, trying hard not to meet her daughter's eyes. The last time she spoke to Erik, they had a silent agreement. She hadn't thought, hadn't expected that he would break his promise.

...

On the night of the planned dinner, Madame Giry and Erik greeted each other cautiously. Although they talked to each other as if they were meeting for the first time, the expressions on their faces told a different story.

Madame Giry observed Erik as he interacted with Christine. For the first time since the entire time she's known him, he seemed… _human_. She was surprised by how he smiled so softly at Christine, how he comfortably held her hand, how he showed off his sense of humor around her, how he quickly offered to help her clear the dishes. Seeing him like this made her smile.

But she still needed to talk to him alone. She needed to protect Christine, needed to make sure that she didn't make a mistake when she handed the girl the keys to the rehearsal studio.

After the dinner, she instructed Meg to help Christine wash the dishes. She led Erik to the living room and gestured for him to sit across her. Once they were both seated, she gave him a contemptuous look.

"You should know that I don't approve." She said with a steely tone.

He let out a mirthless laugh. "I didn't come here to ask for your approval, _Antoinette_. I only came because this dinner is important to Christine."

"I thought we had an agreement, Erik. No harm is to come to Christine."

"And I've kept my word. I have not harmed her. I _would never_ harm her. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"No? I've heard that you're making her move in with you."

"I'm not _making her_ do anything. She accepted my proposal to live together willingly."

Madame Giry's expression softened. She understood the loneliness that Erik felt, understood why he wanted to have someone live with him. But she had to look out for Christine's best interests. "Erik, this isn't a good idea and you know it isn't."

Erik glared at her, trying desperately to contain the anger that was bubbling up inside him. "You don't know that. You don't know my relationship with Christine. We have a connection. She's _everything_ to me." He clenched his fists on his lap and turned away from Madame Giry.

"You love her." She whispered.

Erik was quiet, refusing to meet her eyes, but she could see that her statement stirred something in him. Finally, he spoke up. "I would _never_ harm her… I would protect her. I would give my life for her if I must."

Madame Giry looked at him with sympathy. "Erik, I've known you since you were just a boy. Even then, I could see the good in you and I still see that goodness…" she paused, meeting his eyes, "But I also know of the many atrocities you've committed. Have you told her, Erik, about the lives you've taken?"

He sneered. "I did what I had to do to survive."

"Perhaps. But you're still a wanted man in many different countries. Tell me, if Christine were to stay with you and you were caught, what would happen to her, Erik?"

He stood from the couch, trying hard to keep his tears from falling. He began pacing the room desperately. He wanted to run. He didn't want to hear this. He loved Christine. He loved her so much. "I would protect her. _I would give my life for her if I must_."

"Is that the life you want for her, Erik? You want to hide her underground, live as you have lived for years? She's young, Erik. Much too young for you. And she doesn't yet understand the cost of what living with you would entail."

Erik was furious now. "Then why did you do it? You must've known what would happen when you gave her the keys to the rehearsal studio. You must've known that I would fall for her. Why would you do it? Did you just want to torture me? _Mock me_ for desiring something I couldn't have?!"

Madame Giry sighed. "I couldn't have anticipated that any of this would happen. The entire time I've known you, you've never shown any sort of romantic interest in anyone. I knew you were lonely and so was she. I thought… I thought I was helping two lonely souls find a connection. I hoped you could bond over your shared love of music, help each other find peace. I never expected… I didn't think it possible…"

"You didn't think it was possible that I would love someone and that someone would love me back?" He glared at her accusingly.

Madame Giry pursed her lips. "I can't stop her from moving in with you if it's truly what she wants. But I hope that you understand my point. Christine is like a daughter to me. I only want her to be safe and happy. If you truly wish to be with her, you have to be honest with her about your past. And keep her away from danger."


	30. Away From Danger

**Chapter 30: Away From Danger**

_Keep her away from danger_. Madame Giry's words were ringing in Erik's ears as he and Christine walked home.

When Meg and Christine walked into the living room, Madame Giry and Erik had stopped talking entirely. But they could all feel the tension in the room. Christine saw that as the cue to leave. She hugged Meg and Madame Giry, thanked them for the dinner, and took Erik by the hand as she walked out of the door.

They walked together in silence for a while, both trying to process the conversations they had with the Girys earlier. Then, Christine spoke up. "You know, Erik, I realize that I haven't asked you my daily question yet."

Erik couldn't meet her eyes but he answered her softly. "What would you like to know, my angel?"

She stopped walking and gripped his hand tightly. "Be honest with me… have you met Madame Giry before tonight? How did you meet her?"

He grimaced. "It's a long story, my dear."

"Tell me. Please." She looked up at him with those gentle, innocent eyes of hers. Erik couldn't resist her. He couldn't run and hide from those pleading eyes, no matter how much he wanted to disappear. He sighed and began telling her his tale.

"I was only a boy, about 10 or 11 years old. Back then, she was not Madame Giry. I knew her as Antoinette Durand. She was about 22 or so at the time, an aspiring prima ballerina. The circus I was traveling with made a stop in France. She was in the audience during one of my performances. But we didn't actually meet until…"

He hesitated. He has never shared this story with anyone, not even Madame Giry. Christine gave his hand a soft squeeze, encouraging him to continue. "…until later that evening. The ringmaster of the circus came to my tent. He reeked of alcohol…

He moved toward me and told me that I did well, that my last performance made him a lot of money. He said that I was a real Don Juan because many women seemed so interested in watching me perform. I didn't understand what he was saying at that time…"

Erik looked up at the sky, and he felt as if he were a helpless kid again. He still vividly remembered that night. The memory made him shudder, brought him back to a time he had wanted to forget. Back when he felt that he had no control over his life.

Christine gazed at him warmly, eyes filled with love and sympathy. "Erik, it's okay. If the memory is… something you don't want to talk about, you don't have to tell me."

He smiled at her softly and kissed her hand. Madame Giry's words popped into his mind again. _If you truly wish to be with her, you have to be honest with her about your past_. "It's not a memory I enjoy recalling. But… I wish to tell you anyway."

Christine nodded and Erik continued. "The ringmaster, he… He said that no one else would want me. No one else would have me. So, he said that I should just submit to him, let him do what he wanted with my body. He pinned me to the floor and moved to unbuckle his belt… But he was fat and old, and I could move much quicker than he could. I was able to escape his grasp. And I… I strangled him with the whip he once used to hurt me. I felt his life drain away at my hand."

Erik could not bear to look at Christine, couldn't bear to look into her eyes. That memory he shared was the first time he had taken a life. But it wasn't the last. He wasn't ready to tell her about all of those other instances yet. Still, he thought that he should at least finish answering her question.

"I ran as far away as I could, as quickly as my feet could manage. But the police almost caught up with me. I saw a building with an open window and I tried to hide there. That's where Antoinette found me. She saw my unmasked face, my bloody feet, my disheveled appearance. She seemed shocked but when the police came knocking at her door, she claimed that she didn't see anything.

They told her that a murder had occurred. Told her to be careful. '_They called the kid _The Devil Child_, mademoiselle. He seems to be a stone-cold killer_.' She said she didn't see a deformed boy, told the police that she would report any suspicious kids running around. But she didn't turn me in."

Erik's eyes had welled up with tears and he hoped Christine didn't notice. She gripped his hand tighter. "When the police left, she didn't question me or ask what happened. She gave me food and cleaned me up. I asked her why she was helping me. She said that she could see the goodness in my eyes. I laughed at that, but she seemed serious.

After I had regained my strength, she told me that her fiancé Jacques Giry could smuggle me into a train so I could escape to a different country. And I didn't see her for decades after that…"

He stopped talking and Christine could tell that he didn't want to explain what happened next. She decided that he had already told her enough for the time being. She wrapped her arms around his waist, trying hard to keep her tears from falling. "Thank you for telling me, Erik. I'm sorry that happened to you…"

He held her close, stroking her hair as she buried her head on his chest. He gently rested his chin on the top of her head, letting the scent of her warm his soul. "It's in the past now."

Without moving her arms away from his waist, she looked up at him and smiled. "That's right. We need to start planning for the future. Would you please help me pack my things from my dormitory tomorrow?"

He hesitated. "You want to move in tomorrow?"

"Yes!" she beamed at him. But then she quickly noticed the worried look in his eyes. "Unless… you think I shouldn't yet…"

He held her tighter. He held her as if he were afraid that she would suddenly disappear if he let her go. "I need time to ready the place before you can move in."

"Oh," Christine replied, "but I don't have a lot of things, really. You don't have to make too many changes to your house, Erik. I just need one closet. I don't own much, you know." She chuckled.

"I would still need time to prepare your room. Everything needs to be perfect for my Christine." He said as he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

She looked surprised at what he said. "_My room_? You mean… you don't want me to stay with you in your room?"

"You're welcome to stay in my room anytime you want. But it's still best for you to have your own room. When you need to be alone, when you need space from me, you'd have a place to call your own."

Christine couldn't imagine not wanting to stay in Erik's room. But she understood that they were both pretty private people. It couldn't hurt to have her own space. And maybe he wanted his own space too. "Okay, Erik." She leaned forward to kiss him and he happily reciprocated.

The truth is, Erik preferred to have Christine with him in his bedroom. However, Madame Giry's words were still fresh in his mind. _Keep her away from danger_. How could he keep her away from danger? _He_ was the monster. _He_ was the danger.

He loved her. Yet he knew he didn't deserve her. _She could do so much better than me_, he thought. _She deserves to live freely, to walk in the sunshine with a man who didn't have to hide_.

But he pushed away those thoughts. Right now, at this moment, with his Christine kissing him and holding him, he wanted to be selfish.

He couldn't let her go. He couldn't keep her away from danger.

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**A/N: Thank you, everyone, for continuing to read and follow the story! You guys are the best, and your reviews always make me so happy!**


	31. Gifts

**A/N: Words cannot describe how deeply I cherish and appreciate everyone's reviews. Thank you for continuing to read and support the story! :')**

* * *

**Chapter 31: Gifts**

The next few weeks seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye. Every day, as Christine went to her rehearsals, Erik worked hard on arranging what was to be her room in his house. She came over every night even as he made renovations. But he refused to let her see the changes. "That would spoil the surprise, my dear." He teased as she prodded him to show her the room.

Little did Erik know that Christine also prepared him a surprise of her own. She still couldn't find the courage to tell him that she loved him. Something inside her was holding her back. So, she hoped that her gift could, in a way, express the deep emotions she felt for him instead.

On the night when they would finally move in together, she was smiling widely. He noticed how unnaturally cheerful she was and he was puzzled. Could it be possible that she was _that happy_ about living with him? The thought made him feel warm inside, but he was still skeptical about it all.

_How could she bear it?_ He thought. _How could she stand being with me? How could she not be revolted by the very idea of staying with me?_

Still, as he carried Christine's bags through one of his tunnels, he couldn't help feeling excited. Here she was, walking next to him, carrying her possessions with her on the way to his—_their_—home.

...

He had accompanied Christine at her dorm earlier. She made sure to wait until all of her roommates had left before bringing him over. She wasn't lying when she told Erik that she didn't own much. All of her clothes fit into one large suitcase. She kept her shoes, hats, and other accessories in a separate duffel bag.

In a box, she packed items that she told him were of great importance to her. He spotted a few books (notably one about Swedish fairytales, a gift from her father on her fifth birthday), framed photographs (one of her mother holding her as a baby, one of she and her father on their last Christmas together, and a more recent photograph of her with Meg and Madame Giry on Thanksgiving), a pink teddy bear (Erik scowled when he realized that it was the stuffed animal that Raoul had won for her on their amusement park date), a red scarf, and a white rose with a black ribbon carefully preserved inside one of her books.

They've already cleared all the contents of her closet and drawers. Erik thought this meant that their packing was done. He carried the bags and moved to walk out of the door.

But he quickly stopped when he noticed that Christine was kneeling next to her bed, trying to reach for something underneath it. She pulled out a dark purple violin case. She gently placed it on her lap and wept silently as she touched the engraving: _G. Daaé_.

"It's been more than a year now, but it's still so difficult. I still miss him every day." She whispered as she caressed the case on her lap.

Erik set the bags down and knelt next to her on the floor. She placed her head on his shoulder and let herself weep in his arms. Her sudden overwhelming grief dulled her senses but she could vaguely feel Erik stroking her hair and hear him humming a soft, soothing melody.

Once she calmed down, he took the violin case from her lap and opened it. "Such a beautiful instrument," he said as he inspected her father's violin, "He would've been happy to see that you've taken such good care of it. Do you play, Christine?"

She laughed lightly, wiping her tear-stained cheeks with her thumb. "No. I wish I could. He tried to teach me when I was younger but I just couldn't seem to get it. He had a bit more luck teaching me to play the piano. But the violin always seemed so hard."

Erik hummed. "It's never too late to learn. If you wish, I could show you how."

Christine looked up at him, her eyes glistening with wistfulness. "I'd love that, Erik."

...

When they finally reached his—_their_—house, Erik showed Christine to her new bedroom. She had always been curious about what he used to keep in that room because he always kept it locked. He had told her that there was nothing of value in the room, and she stopped herself from retorting "Then why bother keeping it locked all the time?" She decided not to push it.

The bedroom he designed for her was stunning. It looked elegant yet cozy at the same time. He bought her the finest bed he could find and prepared a large wardrobe which he had also stocked with dresses that he thought she'd like. At the edge of the room was a mirror—the only mirror in the entire house. It looked quite old but Erik had cleaned and repainted it so that it would match the color scheme of the rest of the room.

Erik was standing by the doorway as Christine walked around and inspected her new space. "It's wonderful, Erik. Thank you."

"Of course. I want you to feel at home here, my angel."

She beamed at him. "I have something for you, too."

He looked bemused at what she said. She opened up one of her bags, brought out a small dark blue box, and handed it to him. "What is this, Christine?"

She chuckled. "Well, you won't find out if you don't open it."

Hesitantly, he opened the small box. There, he found a silver pocket watch engraved with a simple message:

"_Erik,_

_I used to be afraid of the darkness. Now, when I sleep, there is always music in my mind. Thank you for showing me the unexpected beauty of the night. Every second with you is a gift._

_-Christine"_

When Erik glanced at Christine, she was smiling widely at him. He looked as if he were holding back tears. "Christine, you didn't have to… _I cannot accept this_."

She looked at him incredulously. "What? Why not?! It's my gift to you."

"I don't deserve this. You've already given me so much."

"What are you talking about? You're the one who's always giving me gifts! Not to mention the fact that you've been giving me free singing lessons for a year now. I actually feel bad that I haven't gotten you anything until today."

"But you _have_ given me so much. Letting me call you my girlfriend, spending time with me, letting me touch you, letting me get to know you intimately. And moving in with me! It's far more than what I deserve."

"Erik, those aren't gifts. Those are just… things you do when you're in a relationship."

"They are gifts _to me_, Christine. I never thought I would have them. And yet you've given them to me freely."

Her eyes softened at his statement. She moved closer to him and held both of his hands. "Erik, please accept the gift. I want you to have something from me. Something you could bring with you everywhere you go. Something that would remind you of me even when I'm not around."

Alarm seemed to flash in his eyes. "When you're not around? Why? Where are you going?"

Christine stifled a laugh and hugged him. "I'm not going anywhere, silly. I just meant… you know, we can't be together every single hour of the day. During those times, I'd still want you to think of me."

He looked at her with a serious expression. "I _always_ think of you, Christine."

She blushed. "I think of you a lot, too, Erik." She leaned forward to kiss him, and he eagerly returned her kiss. Pulling away slightly, Christine gave him a mischievous smile. "You know, my bed looks brand-new. I heard it's bad luck to sleep in a bed without breaking it in first."

Erik eyed her hungrily, his lips forming a playful smirk. "Oh? Well, that won't do. I suppose we'll have to christen it then."


	32. Acceptance

**Chapter 32: Acceptance**

Erik lifted Christine off the ground, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. They stumbled onto the bed, kissing passionately the entire time. This was a dance they were both familiar with by now but the familiarity did not in any way reduce the intensity of their desire, the _urgency_ of their need.

Christine craved his body. She didn't just want him; she _needed_ him. She needed to feel his skilled fingers rubbing her thighs, caressing her hips, fondling her breasts. Even though they were both still fully clothed, she could no longer ignore the ache between her legs.

She quickly moved to take off her shirt and Erik happily assisted her. He threw the bothersome article of clothing aside and unhooked her bra, never taking his eyes off her. Playing with her breasts, he watched her nipples harden at his touch. She moaned at the sensation, and Erik was pleased with the sound. "_Christine_," he whispered, his voice radiating desire and worship.

Christine parted her legs to make room for him. Even through her jeans, she could feel his hardness, the proof of his arousal. She thrust her hips upward and they both felt shocks of pleasure spiking through their bodies.

Erik reached for the nightstand next to the bed, opening the top drawer. Christine glanced at it and noticed that he had stocked lube and a few condoms in there. _Wow. He planned for this, didn't he?_ she giggled at the thought.

To Christine's surprise, Erik was not reaching for these. Instead, he brought out a blindfold.

She stopped him. "Erik… I was hoping we could… _not_ use a blindfold this time. I… I want to see you tonight. _All of you_."

Erik paused, seemingly processing what she had just said. He looked a bit flustered but he grinned playfully at her as he moved to unveil his clothed erection. But before he could even finish unbuckling his belt, Christine stopped him again. "Wait, that's… not what I meant."

He looked at her like a lost little puppy. "It's not?"

Christine blushed. "Well, yes. Of course, I want to see _that_. But what I was trying to say was… I'd like you to keep the mask off tonight."

His lips tightened into a straight line. "No."

"But Erik…"

"I SAID NO, CHRISTINE!" he growled.

The forcefulness in his voice made her double-back. But she wasn't ready to give up just yet. "Please hear me out before you get mad again. I just want to see your face, Erik. Look, I know the blindfold works for us but I want to look into your eyes as we sleep together, just for a change."

"Why would you want to look at _that_?" He snapped. "You were so horrified of it the first time you saw it."

"I'm not proud of the way I reacted the first time. But I meant it when I said that I was more afraid of your temper than I was of your face. Please, Erik. Give me the chance to prove that to you."

Erik closed his eyes. NO. No, he did not want to go through this again. He loved Christine. He couldn't bear to watch her horrified look again. Not when he's opened up so much of his heart to her…

...

Erik will never forget the first time he realized that he would be doomed to live the rest of his life without love and sex. He was 14 years old, and, as it is with all boys that age, his body was going through changes.

After Erik escaped from the policemen who were hunting him down for killing his abusive ringmaster, he went to Italy. For a while, he lived completely alone. Scrounging for food, fighting to survive. Things changed when he met Giovanni.

They found each other when Erik paused from his food hunt to admire a particularly well-built structure. Giovanni, who had built the building, seemed flattered that the young boy appreciated his work. The man showed him some of his other projects and the two struck up a bond. Giovanni took him on as an apprentice, let him stay in his house, taught him almost everything he knew about architecture, and even treated him like a son.

For a while, Erik thought that he had finally found a home. But, of course, his luck eventually ran out. During the summer, Giovanni's youngest daughter, Luciana, came home from boarding school. And soon, Erik's life was turned upside down.

She was 13 and he was 14. His body was going through changes, and so was hers. He never really paid attention to girls before, but something about Luciana seemed so appealing to him. Maybe it was her long, straight brown hair. Maybe it was her pretty face or her lovely green eyes. But mostly his fascination lay with her breasts.

He was ashamed of his thoughts but he couldn't stop himself from thinking about those breasts, the way they would feel when he held them. At night, as he lay under the covers, his body would beg for release and his thoughts would linger on Luciana and how he would like to touch her.

She was often mean to him, teasing him about his mask and calling him names, but his body reacted differently around her. That was when he knew that, though he wasn't particularly _in love_ with Luciana, he desired her the way that boys often desired girls.

Luciana liked him too or at least that's what she told him on that day. Giovanni had asked him to repair something on the roof. So, he went. But Luciana followed him up there and teased him as he worked. He tried to ignore her, but the more he avoided her, the more annoying and brattier she got.

"Why are you ignoring me, Erik?! Come on. _I know_ you like me." Luciana said in an almost flirty manner.

"No, I don't." He said, trying hard to keep his concentration on the repair project.

"_Yes, you do_. I've seen you looking at my boobs. You think I don't notice?" She mocked.

Erik's face flushed. "I'm sorry," he stated meekly.

"It's okay. I look at you too sometimes." She said. Erik looked at her in disbelief. _Why would she want to look at him?_

Luciana moved closer to him. "Why do you keep avoiding me?" she whined.

Erik snorted. "Because you're a spoiled brat and you're always mean to me."

"I'm mean to you because I like you, stupid!" Luciana shrieked as she stomped her foot in frustration.

He sneered. "_Don't call me stupid_. And why would you even be mean to someone you liked?"

Luciana seemed to pause at that statement. "I don't know…" she admitted, "But I like you, Erik. And I know you like me, too." She looked so sincere at that moment and Erik wanted to believe her. He wanted to seize the moment and kiss her. He knew that other boys his age sometimes kissed girls. He wanted that. He wanted to just be a normal boy who liked a girl.

She seemed to know what he was thinking. Before he could make a move, she gave him a quick kiss on his uncovered cheek. He felt butterflies in his stomach. He moved closer to her, hoping to kiss her again.

But she stopped him. "You can kiss me again. On one condition."

He didn't like where this was going. "What?"

"Take off your mask and you can kiss me again."

He turned away from her. "No."

"C'mon," she teased, "what are you hiding under there?"

"None of your business."

"If you like me, you'll do this for me. Don't you like me, Erik?! Because I love you!"

Her words seemed to stir something in him. Did she mean it? Did she love him? But his own mother didn't even love him. Was it possible that Luciana wasn't just trying to embarrass him and she _did_ feel that way about him?

He decided that this was his chance. A real relationship, normalcy, maybe even _something more_. These were just beyond his reach.

So, he slowly took off his mask…

The look on her face was a mix of horror and revulsion. She stumbled back. "Eww. EWWWW. Why did you let me kiss you?"

Erik's heart twisted in a knot. "You asked for it. _You_ kissed _me_!"

"It's not _contagious_, is it?!" she shrieked as she backed away from him. Her foot almost reached the end of the rooftop but she was able to steady herself and keep from falling.

But Erik moved closer to her, heartbreak and rage evident in his eyes. "You lied to me. YOU LIED TO ME! You're just a stupid, shallow, spoiled brat, and I was dumb enough to believe you!"

She backed away, clearly frightened now. And her foot slipped. Before Erik could move closer and catch her, she fell.

Her body splattered in Giovanni's backyard.

Hearing the noise, Giovanni rushed outside and found his daughter's lifeless body. Grief-stricken and confused, he looked up at the rooftop where Erik was.

And Erik couldn't stop his tears. He knew he had to run now. He had to run from the closest thing he's ever had to a home.

...

Christine waited for him to say something, _anything_. She really wanted this. She knew that she should've asked this of him earlier. She should've made more of an effort to make him understand that she wasn't frightened of his face.

After a long pause, Erik sighed. "It's going to change things; I know it will. You won't want me anywhere near you once you've seen it again."

"It won't change anything, Erik. After I saw your face the first time, it was the only face I imagined whenever we slept together. Even when I'm blindfolded, even when I close my eyes, it's your face—_your whole face_—that I think about."

She moved closer to him, slowly and gently placing her hand on his mask. "Please, Erik."

He seemed unconvinced by her words but he gave her a small nod. She took that as her cue to remove the mask. He closed his eyes as she lifted it off his face.

Christine smiled as she gazed at Erik's unmasked face again. It looked exactly as she remembered. The sunken eye, the unfinished nose, the rough and almost-transparent skin, the corpse-like vibe.

The difference was that this face was attached to the man that she was now _sure_ she was in love with.

Erik's eyes were still closed as Christine caressed the deformed side of his face. She moved to kiss him—first his deformed cheek, then his normal one, then on the lips. Tears streamed down his face as she kissed him, gently at first but, steadily, her kisses grew more and more passionate.

At this moment, without his mask, Erik felt more naked than he had ever been with her. He hesitantly opened his eyes. And what he saw melted his heart. Christine was looking directly at him.

She was looking at him and she wasn't horrified. Not disgusted or frightened. Her eyes sparkled with love and an expression that Erik had never seen before—_acceptance_.

He couldn't believe it. Seeing Christine gazing at his unmasked face with such warmth stirred something in him. He cried harder and she wrapped her arms around him, letting him bury his head on her shoulder. "_Oh, Christine_," he cried.


	33. Past and Future

**Chapter 33: Past and Future**

"_Oh, Christine_," he cried

It was a night Erik would never forget. He was without a mask and she was without a blindfold. And still, she looked at him with such deep desire, letting him love her to his body's content.

When she had removed his mask, he cried in her arms. She held him close, softly stroking his back as he nuzzled his face on the side of her neck.

"You don't understand what this means to me…" His voice was barely a whisper. So different from the strong, commanding presence she had gotten used to. She kissed him again, her hand moving to touch the deformed half of his face. He whimpered as her fingers gently caressed the curves and dips of his ruined cheek.

Suddenly, he felt a surge of panic and he quickly moved away from her. It was all too overwhelming. How could her touch make him feel so vulnerable?

She quickly stopped her ministrations. "Did that hurt? I'm sorry, Erik."

"No…" Erik started. For so long, he had dreamt that someone would look upon his face without fear or disgust. Now, it was finally happening—and with his Christine!—and it was all too much.

Christine didn't need to hear him say the words out loud to understand. "We can take things slow. Let me know if you're uncomfortable and I'll stop."

He nodded slowly, and she could see the fear and hesitation in his eyes, the way his body trembled, the way he shied away from her touch. It was ironic how they had spent countless passionate nights together and yet only now did he feel like a blushing virgin.

Christine watched him closely. She realized that, for once, her maestro was holding back and letting her take the reins.

She wanted him to be at ease, wanted him to understand just how much she desired him. Gently, she grabbed his hand and placed it on her chest, letting him feel her erratic heartbeat. Her other hand reached below his waist and started stroking his hardness through his trousers.

A low moan escaped from his lips and his expression quickly changed to something more primal. The sight of her beautiful green eyes glazed with lust stirred something in him. He felt himself regaining control.

He pulled her close to him, planting hungry kisses on her neck as his skilled hands briskly removed her jeans. Now wearing nothing but her underwear, Christine straddled him, relishing being on top for once.

She began grinding on him. And she could feel him getting harder by the second, could feel him struggling to stay in control. His barely restrained passion, aggravated by a lifetime of scarce physical contact, took over.

"_Christine_," he groaned, "my angel, I am not worthy of you."

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him passionately. "You're the only one I want, Erik. I need you. _Please_."

He let out a strangled moan and stood from the bed, carrying her with him. Then, he lay her on her back and let her take off her underwear as he moved to remove his own clothing. Although he had seen her naked form countless times, the sight of her still made him flush.

She was beautiful. _So, so beautiful_. He gazed at her longingly, trying to memorize every inch and crevice of her exposed flesh. From the rosy blush of her cheeks to the soft curves of her breasts to the irresistible gap between her thighs and even to the tender skin of her smallest toe, he created a map of _her _in his mind.

Her body was a temple. And Erik was eager to worship his Angel, his _goddess_.

She parted her legs for him and he guided himself inside her. Sweet whimpers escaped her lips as he entered her and moved within her soft, warm core.

He didn't understand why a being so perfect would let him anywhere near her. But Christine did everything she could to make him feel wanted. She wrapped her legs around him, letting him fill her completely. A wicked smile formed on her lips when he heard his deep, throaty grunts.

She gently traced the scars on his body with her finger and it felt as though she were cleansing him with her touch. With each kiss, she seemed to push away the pain of his past, drawing him further and further out of the once-impenetrable fortress he had constructed for himself.

Her hips were swaying in time with his rhythmic thrusts. Her arm clung to his waist as if she were sinking and his body was the only thing keeping her afloat.

He knew he would never forget this moment even if he tried.

She was his world, his everything. And he would do anything to please her. He slipped one of his fingers between her legs, paying extra attention to that hard bud that always gave her so much pleasure.

As she neared her climax, she moaned. Erik had never heard a more beautiful, more erotic sound.

"Sing for me, my angel. _I want to hear you_. Don't hold yourself back, Christine." He commanded as his thrusts grew harder, more frantic, more passionate.

Her moans grew louder and he watched in awe as she came undone beneath him, crying his name as her body convulsed all around him.

Seeing her in ecstasy seemed to trigger his own. White, hot, blinding light seared his vision as he climbed toward his peak. He couldn't stop the wanton sounds escaping his lips as he emptied himself within her.

_I love you, Christine. I love you. I love you. I love you._

They both felt it. That intense emotion that drew them together and made their hearts feel so full. Erik couldn't stop his tears. How could he be so lucky? How could he be accepted by this angel in his arms?

...

Silence befell the room as the two lovers lay in bed, still wrapped in a tender embrace. But it was a comfortable, serene silence. Christine's eyes were closed as she rested her head on his chest. He stroked her hair gently, careful not to disrupt her peacefulness.

Without opening her eyes, Christine spoke up. "Did you mean it, Erik?"

He planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Mean what, my dear?"

"When you finished, you said…" she smiled softly, "well, you said that you love me. Did you mean it?"

Erik's body tensed. He had no idea that he had said those words out loud. He had always loved her; he knew that much. But telling her the depths of what he felt was something he always avoided.

He couldn't bear her rejection. He would rather live the rest of his life in denial than hear her say that she didn't love him, that she could never love him. Still, he did not move away from her. He let the silence fill the air once more.

But Christine was not about to let the topic go. "Sometimes, in the throes of passion, people say things they don't mean…" she muttered as she opened her eyes to look at him, "I just… I want to be sure that you meant it…"

He locked eyes with her. Those gentle, pleading eyes would be his undoing. He sighed. He knew he couldn't lie to her, not about this.

"I love you, Christine. There's no one else for me except you."

She looked up at him, stunned. And he wondered briefly if she would suddenly push him away. He believed that she would be disgusted at the thought that this monster would be so enamored with her. This beast that had let himself believe that he was just like any other man. This revolting corpse that had invaded her body and taken advantage of her pity.

The silence in the room suddenly felt deafening to him. He felt the urge to reach for his mask on the nightstand.

But, as if reading his mind, she took his hands and held them close to her chest. She was beaming up at him, tears of happiness threatening to spill from her eyes.

"I love you too, Erik."

Both Erik and Christine made a decision that night. It was time to forget the past and move forward. They had confessed their love and both were committed to forging a future together.

Christine decided. It's time to talk to Raoul and tell him that he has made her choice, tell him that she chooses Erik.

It doesn't matter that Raoul reminds her of simpler, happier times. It doesn't matter that her rejection would most likely break his heart and dampen the friendship they have only recently regained. It doesn't matter that he was her first love.

_Tomorrow_, she resolved. _I'll tell him tomorrow_.

Erik decided. It's time to come clean to Christine about his whole past. It's time to stop being a ghost and to start being a man—a good, honest man who lives and works and loves.

It doesn't matter that he'll have to let go of the lifestyle he has led for years. It doesn't matter that avoiding people is easier than working on his fears. It doesn't matter that talking about his past is painful.

_Tomorrow_, he resolved. _I'll come clean to her tomorrow_.

Both were resolute in their decisions. They had a future to look forward to, after all.

But the past still has a way of worming itself into the present. And old ghosts don't go away quite so easily.


	34. The Unexpected Visitor

**A/N: Yes, I'm totally still writing this phic ahaha. Sorry that I haven't updated in a while. I've just had a lot on my plate recently. Anyway, happy reading! And do leave a review if you can :)**

* * *

**Chapter 34: The Unexpected Visitor**

Erik never wanted to leave the bed. If he got up and left the room for even a second, he was afraid that he would return to find Christine gone. No matter how sincere she seemed when she confessed her love, a part of him still had difficulty believing it.

He couldn't sleep last night. Whenever he tried to close his eyes, he would become afraid that he'd soon wake up and realize that the love they shared was only a dream. So, instead of resting, he lied down next to the sleeping Christine. Watched the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, the way her brown curls lay delicately on her shoulders. He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead and he swore that he saw a hint of a smile forming on her lips.

Even in sleep, she was still the most magnificent creature on Earth. He was not worthy of her, he knew. She told him that she loved him, yet she doesn't know who he was… who he is.

A noise in the distance interrupted his thoughts. The sound of hurried footsteps and the distinct clang of metal echoed in the subway tunnels. Erik quickly sprang from the bed. Christine stirred but didn't awaken.

It wasn't unusual for wild animals to find their way into his secret passages, but the noise did not sound like the occasional raccoon or large rat that wandered into his domain. No, this sounded like a human… a man who had somehow found his lair and narrowly avoided one of his traps.

Erik reached for the gun he kept hidden underneath the nightstand. He hasn't used weapons like this since Iran, but he would not let anyone disrupt his peace and ruin the future he's about the build with Christine.

Dressed in nothing but his robe and mask, Erik exited his house through his hidden backdoor. His eyes were used to the darkness but the unwelcome intruder likely was not. He hoped to take advantage of the minimal lighting to catch the trespasser off-guard and get rid of him before Christine even realizes that he left the bedroom.

His mind was racing, wondering about who could possibly have found his lair. Perhaps someone from the theater had found one of his trapdoors. Or maybe that boy had followed Christine on her way home at one point. The thought made his grip on the gun tighten.

He surveyed the area, looking around for the mysterious intruder. He expected to find the blond fool walking around aimlessly. Instead, he saw a face that he had never expected to see again.

The man was tall and dark-skinned. His features had changed since Erik had last seen him. He seemed older and wearier—the frown lines on his forehead had become much more visible, the callouses on his hands a reminder of a history of hardships, and his once black hair had started turning grey. Yet it was unmistakably him.

"Daroga," Erik muttered emotionlessly, loosening his grip on the gun and hiding it inside his robe. He kept himself hidden in the shadows and watched as the man looked around for the source of the voice.

"Erik," the man—the Daroga—moved closer to the house, "I know this is your doing. You must let her go now!"

"What on earth are you talking about? And why have you come here? You know that I don't appreciate unexpected visitors." Erik didn't bother masking the annoyance in his voice.

"Don't play dumb with me, Erik. I've been observing you and your shenanigans in the theater for quite some time now. I know you had something to do with Miss Daaé's disappearance. Where is she, Erik? Why have you kidnapped her? What have you done with the poor girl?"

"Kidnapped? For fuck's sake—" Erik cursed as he walked slowly toward the light, revealing himself to the Daroga, "No one has kidnapped anyone!"

For a while, the visitor looked dumbstruck, simply taking in the sight of the fearsome Phantom wearing nothing but a bathrobe and a mask. Then his eye caught sight of the gun and his lips tightened into a straight line. "Erik, you promised me… Back in Iran, I helped you escape and you swore to me that you would change. I risked my life for you so that you could start a new life and become the good man I knew you could be. Was that all for nothing?"

Erik's expression softened. "Nadir, I have changed. I promised I wouldn't kill a soul, and I've kept my word."

The Daroga looked at him in disbelief. "And what were you going to do with that gun then? And why have you been keeping the young soprano hostage here in your house?"

Erik rolled his eyes. "First of all, I have not kidnapped Christine. We're in love and we're living together. Second, I wasn't going to shoot you. I thought you were… someone else. I was just going to frighten him with the gunshot sound and watch him run away like the little coward he is."

Nadir raised his eyebrow. "In love and living together, huh?"

"Is it easier for you to believe that I've kidnapped someone rather than believing that I have a girlfriend?" Erik scoffed.

"Well…" Nadir started.

Erik glared at him.

"Erik, I've always seen the best in you. Remember that I knew you at your worst and still thought you were worth saving… However, I know what you're capable of, so don't take me for a fool. Now, what have you done with Miss Daaé?"

"I've just told you that I haven't kidnapped her! Christine and I have been dating for a while now, and we decided to live together! Is that so hard to believe?!"

"Well, a certain young man came to me and asked me for help because he thinks that his childhood sweetheart is in danger. He told me that he's been trying to get in touch with her and she's been avoiding him. Then, he went to her dorm and found that she had moved out. None of her roommates seem to know where exactly she ran off to, and no one has seen her all weekend. He seems to think that someone has manipulated her and taken her against her will. That's why he asked me to study the case."

"So, you're some kind of private investigator now?"

Nadir smiled. "Why not? It's good, honest work befitting a retired chief of police."

"And you truly believe that I've manipulated and kidnapped Christine?"

Nadir paused for a moment. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "What I believe isn't what matters. I've come because of the facts of the situation. For instance, I know for a fact that you have something to do with the happenings at the theater. Remember that we've known each other for a long time, Erik. I can recognize your handiwork from a mile away.

The young de Chagny doesn't know who you are quite yet but he's convinced that Christine's disappearance and the happenings at the theater are somehow connected. And I've come here to see if there is any truth to his theory."

Erik felt anger well up inside him. This was all the boy's doing. In his mind, he started coming up with a million ways to get rid of the blond idiot without Christine finding out.

But then the sound of a door opening behind him and a familiar voice interrupted his train of thoughts. "Erik?"

Both Erik and the Daroga turned to look at Christine who was standing by the doorway in her nightdress. "Oh, um, sorry for interrupting." She muttered bashfully, "I was just looking for you, Erik. You weren't in bed so I got worried. You didn't tell me that you were expecting a guest…" Her eyes widened when she saw Erik holding a gun. He noticed that she noticed, and he immediately handed it to a confused Nadir.

"I wasn't expecting anyone." Erik glared at the Daroga. "And Nadir here was just leaving."

He started shoving Nadir away from the house but Christine stopped him. "Wait, he doesn't have to leave yet. Why don't you come in for tea, mister…"

"Nadir Khan. It's nice to finally meet you, Miss Daaé." He said as he extended his hand to her, and she shook it eagerly. "I loved your work in the Hannibal musical." He added with a twinkle in his eye.

"Thank you. That's very kind." Christine smiled sweetly, "And it's great to finally meet a friend of Erik's!"

Erik scoffed. "He's not my friend."

Nadir grinned. "We're more like old acquaintances."

"Oh, that's nice," Christine said, "so, how do you two know each other then?"

Nadir and Erik glanced at each other.

"That's um… it's a long story, my dear." Erik replied.

Christine could sense Erik's discomfort. She didn't want to pry but she was curious about who this man was and why Erik had never told her about him. From the bits of their conversation that she overheard before she came out, they seemed like they knew each other pretty well. She figured she could ask Erik again some other time.

Moving closer to him, she placed her arms between his waist and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. Erik's uncovered cheek turned red, and Nadir looked away.

"Alright. Well, you'll have to tell me the whole story sometime. I have to go and get ready for the day. We're having our first dress rehearsal today." Christine beamed up at him.

"Of course, my dear. I know you'll do wonderfully." Erik smiled and kissed her back. Nadir started staring at a very interesting hole in one of the subway tunnels.

With one last wave, Christine disappeared back into the house. Once Nadir thought that she was out of earshot, he spoke up. "Well, she certainly doesn't look kidnapped."

"SEE? I told you! I told you I had a girlfriend!" Erik grinned with satisfaction.

"And you haven't told her about your past? About Iran?"

At these questions, Erik's smile quickly dissipated. How could he tell Christine about all the horrible things he had done? She said that she loved him, but would she still feel that way if she knew?

As if reading his thoughts, Nadir placed a gentle hand on Erik's back and said, "I'm genuinely happy that you've found love, my friend. But you do understand what this means, don't you?"

Erik did not reply nor look at him.

"Your days of living for only yourself are done. You have to think about her well-being and happiness in addition to your own."

Erik seemed to be deep in thought. The sadness in his eyes seemed to run so deep. "She told me that she loves me, Daroga. No one has ever loved me. I can't lose her."

"Because you love her, you'll have to be honest with her and let her make her own decisions… even if her decision may not end up being favorable to you." Nadir gently patted Erik on the back. "I'll keep the de Chagny boy off your trail for now. But if you ever get into any more mischief, you better believe that I'll be coming for you."

...

Christine's mind was reeling. As she took a shower and got dressed, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about what she had overheard. Raoul was looking for her and was somehow under the impression that she has been kidnapped? Guilt squeezed her heart in its vise-like grip. It was all her fault.

If she had just been honest with him instead of avoiding him for the last few weeks, he wouldn't have been so worried and suspicious. She had been trying to keep her distance because she didn't want to break his heart, didn't want to just outright say "Raoul, I'm sorry. I do care for you, but I don't love you the way you love me."

But her attempts at sparing him from heartache have only made things worse. Now, he's going around saying that she's been kidnapped. She has to talk to him and tell him about her choice before any more misunderstandings happen.

Christine quickly packed her bag and moved to exit the house. Nadir was no longer outside, and she saw Erik standing alone staring at the lake. She stood behind him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Are you alright, Erik? Is there anything I can do to help you?"

He turned to face her and, despite being significantly taller than her, managed to bury himself in her warm embrace. "When you come home tonight, there is something I wish to discuss with you."

She looked up at him, concern clear in her expression. "We can talk about it now if it's bothering you so much."

He held her tighter. "It would be a long discussion, and I don't want you to be late for your dress rehearsal."

"Okay," she smiled up at him, "We'll talk later then. I love you, Erik."

"I love you, Christine."

He watched as she walked away. And a part of him wondered if she'll ever let him hold her again once she knew the truth about his past.


	35. Perspective

**A/N: Hi everyone! Yes, I am still working on this phic and fully plan on finishing it. XD I started this story a year ago and I feel like I've grown a lot as a writer during that time. For all the readers who are still following this story, thank you for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy this update!**

* * *

**Chapter 35: Perspective**

Christine was having one of the worst days of her life.

Her morning had already started on a strange note. She had woken to find that Erik was no longer in bed and she rose to look for him. As she walked out of the room, she heard two voices conversing outside the house—one clearly belonging to Erik and the other to a man she didn't recognize.

Pressing her ear against the door, she listened in on the conversation. Though she tried to decipher what she could, she only really understood parts of it because some sections were spoken softly, as if the two men were worried that anyone else would hear them.

She heard that they knew each other from Iran, how Raoul seemed to think that someone had kidnapped her, and she could've sworn she heard them discussing something about _killing_. The thought made her shudder and she immediately regretted eavesdropping.

The entire exchange bothered her and she couldn't stop thinking about it even as she made her way to the theater. As soon as she got there, many of her friends from the ballet corps rushed to hug her.

"Oh, Christine, we're so glad you're safe! Raoul told us that you had been kidnapped! We were so worried."

Frustration welled up inside her but she pushed it down and forced a smile. "I don't know what Raoul has been telling everyone, but I'm perfectly fine. No one has been kidnapped. This was just a huge misunderstanding."

Many of them just looked confused at her statement. She was about to continue explaining when, suddenly, she caught sight of Raoul entering the theater and she rushed to confront him. Raoul saw her and an expression of relief and happiness was clear on his face.

"Lotte! You're alright!"

"Of course, I'm fine. What the hell were you thinking, telling everyone that I've been kidnapped?!"

He looked at her sheepishly but his tone remained even, steady, "Let's talk about this somewhere else, Christine. Take a walk with me?"

A part of her wanted to slap him then and there, but the expression on his face softened her heart. When he sheepishly gestured for her to come with him, she begrudgingly followed him out of the door.

They took a stroll around the block, passing by other theaters, all lit up with large colorful signs, decorated with posters of various productions.

Raoul calmly tried to explain what had gone through his head over the weekend.

"I've been worried about you for some time now, Christine. You've been avoiding me and everyone important to you, really. Meg has been telling me that she barely hangs out with you now. After rehearsals, you disappear as though you only exist when you're on the stage."

Christine kept quiet for a while. She already knows that she hasn't been spending much time with her friends and that Meg had been frustrated about it.

"Okay, so I've been pretty busy lately. What does this have to do with you thinking I was kidnapped?"

"Well…" Raoul started, "Meg told me that you've been spending all your spare time with your boyfriend. You once told me that he was Erik Lowell, the composer, right? So, I tried to do some digging on him and I couldn't find anything online. He's a total ghost, Christine."

Rage started bubbling inside her now. "So, you were trying to cyber-stalk my boyfriend and when you couldn't find anything, you assumed I was kidnapped? What is wrong with you, Raoul? I thought we were friends. Friends are supposed to trust each other!"

"Please listen to me, Christine. Ever since you've been with him, you've been spending every spare moment you have with him. He's been isolating you from your friends and all the people who care about you, making you dependent on him.

This weekend, I tried to come to your dorm, to see if we could hang out. Your roommates said that you moved out but that they had no idea where you moved to! Not even Meg and Madame Giry know where this guy's house is. Doesn't that seem a little shady to you?"

"That's only because he needs privacy, Raoul. Now wanting to blab about where he lives doesn't make him a kidnapper!"

"Or he doesn't want people to know where he lives so that no one can come to rescue you if he ever does anything!"

Christine was now struggling to keep her rage from bubbling up within her. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't even know him!"

"Do _you_ know him, Christine? What do you _really_ know about this guy? What if he's not who he says he is? What if he's a serial killer trying to lure you into his web?"

"I do know him! He's not a…" Christine paused, trying to parse her words carefully. After what she heard and saw this morning, after what Erik had confessed before, was she so sure that he _wasn't_ a killer?

"He would never hurt me," she said resolutely.

"Lotte, listen…" Raoul started to speak.

"No, you listen to _me_," she interrupted, "I get that you care about me and I appreciate the concern. But you have no right to assume things about my relationship. You have no right to hire a private investigator to pry into something that is none of your business. And you have no right to go around spreading false rumors about my safety!"

Raoul looked down, chastened, "You're right. I'm sorry… I guess I overreacted. I still don't trust the guy but, if you're sure that he _isn't_ some kind of predator… I trust _you_, Christine."

"Thank you," she sighed, "and… I'm sorry for avoiding you all this time. I just needed space to think about things."

"Were you avoiding me because of what I said at Bella Notte?"

Christine thought about what to say. She didn't want to break his heart, but this was the perfect opportunity to be honest. _Just tell him that you've made up your mind, Christine. Tell him that you choose Erik._

"Well, yes and no. The truth is, I do have some feelings for you too… but I love Erik. He… he needs me more."

Raoul stepped closer to her, so close that she wondered whether he could feel her heart beating so loudly in her chest. "What about what _you_ need, Christine?"

"What?" she whispered.

"You said that he needs you more, but what about you? If this is your choice, I will respect it and we can continue to just be friends. But I want to know that you're staying with him because it's what _you_ want and not because it's what you think _he_ needs."

Suddenly, the doubts that she had been pushing to the back of her mind started resurfacing. Yes, she loved Erik. That was undoubtedly true. But there was also that part of her that feared him… Not his face, no. His temper. His moodiness. His tendency of putting her on this pedestal.

Things are going well for them right now, but she had seen what happened the last time he got jealous, the last he thought that she had betrayed him. The anger in his eyes had burned itself into her memory. How he destroyed everything in his path because of an imagined slight.

She has forgiven him but forgetting was a different matter altogether.

And when the rage inside him had died down, there was only sadness and pain left in its wake. Even when the mask hides the rest of his face, he could never hide the emotions in his eyes. Those eyes that held all the sadness of the world. He always looked at her as though he could never live without her.

How could she bear to break his heart when he acts as though she is his only lifeline?

"I've made my choice, Raoul. But I'd still like to be friends with you."

It felt like the right decision, but, even as she made it, the doubts in her mind did not disappear.

...

The rest of her day passed by in a blur. Rehearsals were the same as they have always been. Carlotta was still being her diva self, strutting around the stage like a peacock. Piangi would always be frustrated by how she drowned out his voice during duets instead of blending her tone with his. Christine would play her silent role as well as she could.

But even though she was physically present, her thoughts still turned to Erik.

She was certain that she had feelings for both Raoul and Erik. They're both so different, both had different roles in her life, and that made it difficult to simply choose.

Raoul was like sunshine. He always brightened up her day, made her forget her worries, and simply have fun. Whenever they were together, she felt like she could do anything, _be anything_. Things were so simple with Raoul. How could anyone see his smile and not feel like everything in the world will be okay?

Erik was a beautiful storm. Dark and misunderstood and sometimes frightening. But the rain is necessary for living things to grow. And Erik _had_ helped her grow, helped to shape her voice and bring her out of her shell at a time when she wanted nothing to do with the world. He had seen her even when she was invisible to everyone else, and he made her shine.

Her thoughts did nothing except confuse her more. She remembered then that Erik promised to tell her something before she left their home… Could this conversation be what finally brings her clarity and perspective?

Christine was so consumed in her thoughts that she forgot the choreography and ended up tripping on Carlotta's large skirt. As she stumbled onto the stage floor, a choked cry sounded from her lips. Carlotta almost fell over, as well, but one of the male background dancers was able to steady her before she did.

"Watch where you're stepping, you little toad!" Carlotta hissed.

Christine's face flushed as she stood and apologized to everyone.

...

In the little house on the lake, an anxious Erik was pacing the living room, both dreading and anticipating Christine's return. He had promised Nadir (and himself) that he would come clean but a part of him still hoped that he could keep his secrets to the grave.

Did Christine have to know _everything_ about his past? Perhaps, he could leave out details and spare her kind, innocent, pure heart from being tainted by his past sins?

He had prepared a lovely dinner for her, intending to completely spoil her tonight and get her in a good mood before he tells her. As he prepared the table, he felt his resolve waning. He couldn't bear to see her turn away from him, to see her finally understand what kind of monster he is.

Before he got too lost in his thoughts, Christine finally stepped through the door. Erik rushed to embrace her and she eagerly leaned into his hug.

For a while, the two of them just stood there by the door, neither of them wanting to move and pull away. Erik held her closer, wondering if this was the last time she would ever let him hug her.

When he noticed how eerily silent she was, he decided to break the ice.

"Is something the matter, my dear?"

Christine buried her face on his chest, "It's nothing… I just had a pretty bad day."

"What happened?"

She paused for a moment, as though choosing her words carefully. A part of her wanted to be upfront about the conversation she had with Raoul, but she knew that nothing good could come of him knowing the things Raoul had said to her and the doubts that came to her mind as she processed his words.

"Nothing. I just made a mistake during rehearsals. It was embarrassing enough when it happened in front of everyone at the theater, but then someone from Carlotta's entourage took a video and immediately shared it on social media. It's a good thing my friends told me about it as soon as they saw it."

Christine then took out her phone and showed him a video of her tripping on Carlotta's skirts and falling on her face. Someone had looped the video and edited it to make it seem as though the sound that came out of her lips was a croak.

Erik looked outraged on her behalf, but before he could even say a word, she interrupted, "Don't worry. They're already taking down the video. Raoul helped by threatening to sue whoever posted it. It was embarrassing but not a big deal."

A look of confusion and hurt spread across his features, "You asked _the boy_ for help before asking me?"

"Erik, I already told you that it's not a big deal. Please let's just forget about it."

"No. When someone hurts you, _I_ should be the one you turn to!" he said as he balled his fists, "Oh, Carlotta thinks she's so clever, but she doesn't know who she's dealing with."

"Erik, stop it! What's done is done. I just want to move on. You promised me… you promised that you'd stop being the theater ghost! I don't want to talk about this anymore. Let's just have dinner already."

Sensing the tension in the air, Erik dropped the conversation and followed Christine into the kitchen.

...

For what felt like an eternity, the two of them dined in silence. Having lived alone for a significant portion of his life, Erik was used to the quiet. But it felt different, _suffocating_, having Christine beside him without her saying a single word.

As he considered breaking the silence with mindless small talk (which they've never felt the need to do before), she spoke up.

"This morning, you said that you wanted to tell me something. What was it?"

Erik visibly tensed, "It's a long story, my dear… and not one we need to discuss right at this moment."

Calmly, much too calmly, she asked, "Does it have anything to do with Iran?"

His heart almost gave way at the mention of Iran. "How did you…"

"I may have heard some of the things you talked about with Nadir earlier," she admitted sheepishly.

Erik's heart was racing. He didn't want to bring it up now, not while the tension of their recent argument still hung in the air.

Nadir's words echoed in his mind. _"Because you love her, you'll have to be honest with her and let her make her own decisions… even if her decision may not end up being favorable to you."_

He looked at her, gazing at him with what looked like compassion, and he knew he couldn't keep this to himself anymore. She deserved to know the truth about him.

"Christine," he started, "you must understand that I was a very different man back then. I had lost all hope that I would find anyone who would _care_ about me in any way… I was making money as a traveling magician but I wasn't content. I wanted more. I wanted challenges. I wanted puzzles. I wanted to be useful, to be _needed_.

I was given an offer I couldn't refuse. Power and the chance to make use of my brain and my many talents. And I took it, not caring about the consequences."

"What did you do, Erik?" she whispered.

"I'll spare you the details, but… I was hired by powerful, cruel figures in Iran. They needed me to concoct elaborate torture devices to get information from their enemies. And when they had no further use for their victims, I was tasked with _disposing_ of them."

"You… you killed people."

"I took no pleasure in it, Christine. You must believe me! I did it out of self-preservation."

"How could you torture and kill countless people and say that it was for self-preservation?" She tried to keep her tone as steady as possible but Erik could feel how shaken she was.

"The people who hired me… they were vastly wealthy and had political power. When they first approached me, I only thought they were after my architectural skills. They had wanted me to build this beautiful palace, something that could rival even the Taj Mahal. I accepted because I wanted the challenge. I wanted the chance to create something that lasts forever. I only wanted something beautiful to outlive me.

But the Khanum was a cruel woman. She saw that my mind and my skills could be used for something other than 'building houses.' I was eager to please her, eager to be something more than a masked freak with a death's head.

The first time I watched a man die by one of my torture chambers… I do not even remember his name or whether he deserved what he got. But I could never forget his face and, when I close my eyes, I can still see the fear in his eyes, still hear his unrelenting screams. I never wanted to do it again, but the Khanum threatened to have my head if I didn't do as she asked.

I barely remember the other deaths. I couldn't count them all even if I tried. My days were empty and hollow and I only got through them by plunging a needle down my arm and hoping my mind would forget everything I've seen. I took no pleasure in any of it, Christine. You must believe me."

For a time, the room was silent. Erik sighed as he saw the expression on Christine's face. She was glancing down as if in pain, barely able to look at him.

"Christine," he pleaded, "I'm not that person anymore. You know that. I would never hurt you. Nadir saved me from the Khanum and helped me escape. I promised him that I would change and I have… You must believe me."

She glanced up and looked him in the eye, as though she were searching for an answer somewhere in his gaze. After more silence, she finally spoke up.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Erik. I'll… need some time to process this."

As she stood from the table and made her way to her room, Erik felt his heart deflating. He buried his face in his hands and let the tears fall.

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**A/N: I know most of y'all probably wanted Christine to be more accepting of Erik's past, but I did feel like it would be more realistic for her to be shaken that her boyfriend used to be an assassin. We'll see how these two deal with this revelation in the next chapters hehehe. Stay tuned and, if you are so inclined, please do let me know what you think of this chapter! :')**


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